The Darkest Lie lotu-7

by Gena Showalter

A ragged breath left Gideon. "You didn't say was. His name was. That means he's...he's..."

  "He's dead," she whispered hoarsely. "Yes."

  Absolute agony contorted Gideon's features. Maybe she shouldn't have told him about the boy. Sometimes she wished she didn't know; it was just too painful. But part of her had thought, hoped, that Gideon would have retained knowledge about his own child. Knowledge that might have led to memories of his wife.

  "All of it. I don't want to know all of it." As he spoke, he sank to his knees, the knuckles wrapped around the second blade leaching of color. "Please."

  Seeing such a strong warrior reduced to such bleakness tore at her, and she had to blink back a rush of stinging tears. If she told him now, it wouldn't be because of sex. It would be because he'd begged. At least, that's how she rationalized this new need to share. Everything.

  "All right, yes," she said, no less hoarse as her harsh, jagged breath scraped against her chest cavity. "I'll tell. Tell you everything about his life and his death, but you can't speak. If you interrupt me with questions I may not be able to continue." Emotion would choke her. She would break down, sob, and no way would she allow Gideon to see her like that. This was going to be hard enough. "Got me?"

  A moment passed, Gideon remaining still, silent. What danced through his head, what made him hesitate to agree, she didn't know. All she knew was that talking about Steel wasn't something she did. Ever. Again, it was just too painful. Even if Gideon remained quiet, she wasn't sure she would be able to get through this. Definitely not without crying.

  Pretend it's a story you made up. Distance yourself. Yeah. Right.

  Finally Gideon worked through whatever issue he had with her demand for silence and nodded. His lips were pressed in a thin, mulish line, cutting off any words he might have wanted to speak.

  Scarlet inhaled deeply, searching for fortification. She didn't find it. The words simply wouldn't form.

  She pushed to shaky legs and strode to the tree with the dagger. Gideon didn't try to stop her as she removed the tip with a jerk. Then she began pacing, tapping the sharp metal against her thigh in a steady, hopefully calming rhythm. A cool, damp breeze fragrant with earth and sky wafted around her, while twigs and rocks cut at the soles of her feet.

  Just say the words. Pretend, pretend, pretend. You'll be talking about someone else's life. Someone else's son. "I told you I was pregnant and you were happy. You petitioned Zeus for my release into your custody. He said no. So you arranged for my escape. Only, I was caught. I was given twenty lashes before you realized I'd failed. They had thought to break me, to force me to tell them who had aided me. I didn't." She would have died first.

  "The pain was manageable, at least, but I was so afraid of losing the baby. My cellmates tried to hurt me, too, but I fought harder than I'd ever fought anyone and was soon given a cell of my own permanently, not just for our...interludes. That's where I eventually gave birth to our—" her voice caught on the word "—to a beautiful little boy."

  As the image of Steel flashed through her mind, that sweet boy sleeping on her chest, looking like an angel, she tripped over her own foot. She was shaking as she righted herself.

  True to his word, Gideon remained silent, waiting.

  The first few drops of rain fell, almost as if nature was crying for her. For all she'd lost.

  Pretend. "You visited me every day. And every day you stayed a little longer and were a little more reluctant to leave. I feared you would have yourself committed to the prison just to remain at my side." And she was ashamed to admit she'd liked the idea. "Then one day you came to me, told me you had a new plan to gain my freedom, though you didn't give me the details at the time. That plan was, of course, to steal Pandora's box. So needless to say, you never returned."

  At her sides, the trees began to blur. Her chin trembled, and her cheeks heated, the rain falling more steadily now. Do it. Keep going. She wanted to look down at Gideon but didn't. His expression, whatever it was, could be her undoing.

  "Then I was possessed by Nightmares, as you know, and I wasn't a fit mother. So the Greeks took him. Took Steel." And she'd blamed Gideon more and more for the separation. If only he'd come back for her, for them, how different things could have been. "When my head cleared and I realized what had happened, I begged to see him but my cries went unheeded. I tried to escape every day. And every day they whipped me anew."

  A choking sound left Gideon, but still Scarlet didn't allow herself to look at him.

  "Finally, I noticed how Tartarus, both the prison and its warden, were weakening. At last I managed to escape and made my way to Olympus. And I...I found our baby." This time, the choking sound left her. "But he was a baby no longer. Centuries had passed, but he was only a teenager, his immortality slowing his aging process, I guess. And he...he had no fucking idea who I was."

  Rain, tears. Both drenched her.

  Pretend, damn you. "He had grown horns and fangs, his eyes were red and patches of his skin were scaled. That's when I realized they'd given him a demon, too. Which one, I still don't know. But he was beautiful, damn it." The last was screamed, identical to a banshee's wail, but she couldn't help herself.

  Silence. The cool wash of water.

  Finish this. "They had made him their whipping boy. They laughed at him, kicked him, abused him vilely. There was no happiness in his eyes. Just resolution. He was enduring, proud, strong. A determined warrior. And that just made it worse, you know? I had failed that precious boy in every way, yet he was still everything I could have wanted in a son."

  Tears continued to leak, tendrils of acid, scorching her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her wrist, shaking violently now. Pretend. "I erupted at his treatment. I unleashed my demon in the most horrendous show of violence the heavens had ever seen. By the time I finished, the gods and goddesses around him were driven to insanity, which ultimately aided Cronus in his own escape.

  "But I digress. When the darkness cleared, I realized Steel was afraid of me. He even fought me when I tried to abscond with him. I didn't want to hurt him, so I let him run from me. He went to Zeus, the only father figure he'd ever known, and together they chased me down. Not that I tried to hide. I wanted Steel to find me."

  She swallowed the serrated lump growing in her throat. "To Steel's surprise, Zeus chained us in front of each other. He told Steel that I was his mother, and Steel...he..." Once again she had to fight past those blistering tears, not even the chilly rain cooling them.

  A sliver of rock sliced the sole of her foot, and she welcomed the sting. "He was distraught. He cried. Begged me to forgive him. I tried to reassure him. He could have killed me, and I wouldn't have cared. But Zeus was determined to punish me for the trouble I had caused. He took...he took Steel's head in front of me."

  Deep breath in, deep breath out. "I fought so fervently against my chains, I lost a hand that day. But I didn't free myself in time. He was...gone. He was gone, and I was thrown back into my cell. And I stayed there until the Titans managed to overthrow the Greeks for good. But you know the worst part? He'd planned it. Zeus had planned to kill him all along. He'd had someone there, waiting, a new host for Steel's demon."

  Again, silence. No, not true. Her choppy inhalations blended with Gideon's uneven exhalations and mixed with the patter of the storm.

  There. He knew everything now. Every painful moment of Steel's life. Scarlet's failure. His own failure. What could have been, what hadn't been. Why she hated him so damn much. Why she could not possibly ever forgive him for leaving her behind.

  "Scar," he whispered brokenly. "I—I—"

  Still she couldn't face him. She felt too exposed, too raw, as if she'd been scraped with a razor from the inside out. "What!" A scream.

  "I understand, I do." Meaning, he didn't. "That sounds like the...man I knew. A king who—"

  "Don't talk to me about that bastard! You liked him, I know. You respected him, admired his strength. Before your possession, he was even good to you.
As much as he was capable of." And that wasn't much. So the fact that Gideon defended him in any way... Suffer! "How did he treat you afterward, huh? He cursed you and he banished you! But you know what? He was never good to me and he was never good to your son." The words were coming in gasping rumbles now, slashing at him.

  She had to stop. Her sobs were threatening to escape. But how dare he question the validity of her tale? He should be pleading for absolution. Shouting to the heavens. Cursing. That he wasn't...

  "I'm leaving you," she said. Though she'd tried for a calm, this-is-how-it's-gonna-be tone this time, her own suffering was evident in every nuance of her voice. "You owe me a boon, and I'm redeeming it by asking that you don't come after me. You've done enough damage."

  With that, she did it. She at last walked away and left her husband behind. She didn't look back. Closure sucked.

  YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH DAMAGE.

  The words echoed through Gideon's mind. Everything inside him screamed to jump up, to chase Scarlet down, to bind her to him in whatever way necessary, to do something, anything to soothe the wounds inside her, but he didn't. He remained crouched on the ground, shaking, hot tears streaming down his already soaked cheeks.

  She was right.

  He had done enough damage. At first, he hadn't wanted to believe her. He'd scrambled for any possible scrap to disprove her. But the pain in her eyes had been too real, the wounds in her voice seeping crimson. Which meant not only had he abandoned his wife, he'd also abandoned his son. An abandonment that had eventually led to his son's murder.

  A murder Scarlet had been forced to watch, help less.

  Why couldn't Gideon remember? Why?

  Rage beat through him, harder than fists of iron. Whatever he had to do, he would find out.

  With a roar, he ripped off his necklace and tossed it aside. "Cronus," he shouted to the treetops. "Cronus! I command your presence."

  It was the truth, but he couldn't stop the words. Didn't want to stop the words. Immediately, his demon screamed and pain slammed into his chest. Pain that doubled him over. Pain that spread through every inch of him, turning his blood to acid and his bones to bubbling liquid.

  Pain he deserved.

  Soon he couldn't move, could barely speak. But over and over, he called, "Cronus. Cronus. Come to me. I need you."

  An eternity seemed to pass, the rain finally dying, though the moon never broke through the clouds and the sun never appeared. Where was Scarlet? Had she made it someplace safe to await the coming morning? Probably. The girl was resourceful. Well able to take care of herself. Look at everything she had survived.

  She was stronger than he was, that was for sure.

  Gods, no wonder she was done with him. She had to hate him. Did hate him. The emotion had drenched her final goodbye. He didn't blame her, either. Just then, he hated himself. He'd left his own child to die. His own child.

  He should be beheaded.

  The tears stared flowing again, and he squeezed his eyelids shut. Darling Steel, saddled with horns and fangs, even scales. The ever-fastidious gods and goddesses had probably made him feel ashamed of those features. Features Gideon would have loved and fawned over. Cherished.

  Scarlet had been right about something else, too. At one time, Gideon had liked and respected Zeus. The former god king might have been selfish and power-hungry, but in his way, he'd been good to Gideon. Until the Pandora's box fiasco. After that, the Greeks had ignored Gideon and his friends, and as time passed, Gideon had found contentment with his new life.

  Not his wife and child, though. They never had. Zeus had never been good to them, and for that, Zeus would suffer.

  I will destroy the bastard. Once, Gideon had done everything in his power to protect his king. And how had he been repaid? His greatest treasures were taken from him. I will avenge my son. My wife.

  Pandora's box be damned. Vengeance came first. Now. Always.

  "Tsk, tsk," a male voice suddenly said, the quiet sound exploding through Gideon's head.

  He pried open his eyelids.

  Cronus crouched in front of him, disappointment shadowing his ever-more-youthful features. "You are a fool, letting yourself decline like this. And for what? A single moment of truth?" He sighed. "Why did you summon me? Again. I just spoke to Lucien and received my daily update. I do not require another."

  "Zeus," Gideon gritted out. "I want him."

  Lies screamed.

  Another bout of truth. Another bout of pain, fresh and searing.

  Cronus blinked in surprise. "Why?"

  "I want him," Gideon repeated, panting. He would not discuss Steel with Cronus. If the god were to remember the boy, were to bad-mouth him in any way, Gideon would be out for his blood, as well, and right now he needed the king as an ally.

  "No." Unwavering, certain. "You cannot have him."

  Gideon clenched his jaw as his gaze fogged over. Fight this. "He's your enemy. Let me slay him for you." He was so used to speaking deceitfully, he should have stumbled over the truth. At the very least, he should have had to think about what to say. Yet he didn't. The truth flowed from him, already a part of him. Zeus would die by his hand.

  "Why would you want to?" Cronus asked, genuinely curious.

  "The fact that he's breathing offends me."

  Lies whimpered. More, please more. Stop, please stop.

  The king's expression hardened. "Only after he has endured thousands of years of confinement will he be allowed the sweet taste of death. If even then. And I will be the one to deliver it. Now, is that all you wished to discuss with me?"

  If Cronus wouldn't help him willingly, the king would just have to help him unintentionally. All Gideon needed was passage into Olympus. Or whatever Cronus was calling the place. From there, he could hike into Tartarus. He'd spent centuries doing so and still knew the way.

  That was one thing he hadn't forgotten.

  "I want to go to the heavens." Amid his demon's renewed screams, he gritted his teeth. Gods, the pain. Any more, and he would finally pass out. Just a little longer, and then you can sleep. "Let me recuperate there, so that the Hunters won't find me in this condition and hurt me."

  Finally, a lie. That didn't ease his suffering; it was too late for that, but Lies did sigh with a kernel of relief.

  "A boon, then? From me to you."

  Gideon nodded as best he was able.

  "If I do this, you know you will owe me."

  Another nod. "I'll do...anything you...want." For Steel. And for Scarlet. And maybe, while he was sneaking his way into the prison and removing Zeus's head, he could figure out what the fuck had happened to his memories.

  "Very well." Slowly Cronus grinned with satisfaction. "You may stay in the heavens until you have recovered. No longer, no shorter. And in return, I may call upon you at any time with my request for payment, and you must heed that request above all else."

  "Yes." Another truth, more pain, more hissing.

  The deal was struck.

  As Gideon closed his eyes, the ground beneath him disappeared. After centuries of banishment, he would finally return to the heavens.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "THAT STUPID, stupid man. That pig. That jerk. That raging asshat!"

  As Scarlet stomped through the forest, slapping tree trunks along the way, she called Gideon every vile name she could think of.

  "That shithead. That brainless caveman. That...father."

  Goodbye, steam.

  She stilled, panting, sweating, palms stinging. He hadn't known he was a father. She'd thrown the information at him, then left him to deal with it on his own. And too well did she know how impossible it was to deal on one's own.

  For months after Steel's death, she'd done nothing but cry. She'd stopped eating, had even stopped speaking. Maybe, if she'd had someone there to care for her, to pick up the shattered pieces of her soul, she would have recuperated sooner.

  Much as she hated—no, hate was too strong a word just then. And she didn't know why. Sti
ll. Much as she disliked Gideon, she didn't want him wallowing. He was in the middle of a war. He couldn't afford to wallow.

  One more night with him, Scarlet thought, hating herself. And it wasn't too strong a word when directed at herself. She turned around and stalked back to Gideon's camp. She'd heard him shouting to Cronus, the god king who had despised her all her life because she was the evidence of his wife's betrayal. Evidence his peers could see.

  Had Gideon thought to ask him for confirmation about Steel, like her word and pain weren't good enough? Or had he been seeking vengeance against Zeus, as she once had?

  If that was the case, she would have to stop him. The former sovereign suffered more locked away, his power taken from him, the knowledge that his greatest rival was controlling his throne a constant in his mind, than he ever would have suffered if she'd killed him.

  Too quick. Too easy.

  Still. She couldn't leave Gideon alone. So she would stay with him for what remained of the night, comfort him as best she was able. Not that he deserved it, but hell, she'd always been a giver. But after this, she was done with him. For real this time.

  Only, when she broke through the final wall of leaves, she saw that he'd already left the camp. So soon? She hadn't heard him take a single step. Where the hell had he gone?

  Scarlet spun, searching for any sign of him. All she found was a bag. Scowling, she stalked to it. Along the way, something hard, hot and thin hooked around her bare toe, and she stopped.

  Her scowl became a frown of confusion and then irritation as she bent down and lifted...his butterfly necklace. Why had he left it? Because he was done with her and didn't want to match her anymore?

  She popped her jaw, removed her own necklace—how stupid she'd been to wear it—and clenched them both tightly in her fist. Metal crunched against metal.

  "Rotten scum." She drew in a deep breath and caught a whiff of godly majesty. It was like a cloying perfume, pungent enough to sting the nostrils. She'd endured that scent most of her life, and had been ecstatic to finally escape it when she'd left Tartarus.