Spartan Heart, Part Two

by Kristine Cheney

  “Do not fear me, Evangeline, for I am Paraebates. I’m a close friend and loyal servant to your Dorien.”

  The mention of Dorien’s name made Evangeline’s heart quicken. She couldn’t help but smile. Despite the pounding pain in her face and body, the simple thought of the man she loved made her beam from the inside out.

  “There you go! See! We are friends already!”

  Evangeline hiccupped from her trauma. Just as it had happened with Philip, she physically felt it; an invisible blanket of safety encompassed her. It was sudden, unexpected, yet almost magical. Relaxing against the sculpted body of Paraebates, she was well aware he read her thoughts.

  “Do not worry. Dorien is well. Philip and Celeas are helping him wrestle the minion. Phebus will not be bothering you again.”

  Her head rested against his cold muscled shoulder. Despite Dorien’s immortality, Evangeline would always fret over him. “What are they going to do with Phebus?”

  Paraebates chuckled. “Dorien is a fair and just man. Whatever he deems is adequate punishment for the minion, the rest of us will not question him.”

  The babies moved and stretched. Evangeline clutched her belly and cried out in sudden pain. Her head fell back. She moaned through slow, deep inhaled breaths.

  Paraebates looked as if he were going to be sick. His terse expression was laden with a masculine panic. She felt the press of his cool fingers splaying across her swollen belly. “Evan, please say your time to give birth has not come!”

  Evangeline giggled at his typical male reaction. The muscles in her diaphragm hurt and burned like liquid fire. “No! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She lifted her blouse and showed him. Large black and purple welts were the size of a man’s fists. Trails of hemorrhage leaked from broken blood vessels. Bruises covered the expanse of her flesh.”

  Paraebates growled. The pit of his eyes glowed lethal. “If only I could beat the wretch myself!”

  Evangeline gently rubbed her skin. The simple gesture made her wince. “All of this damage is from Phebus. Every time my little ones move I hurt something awful.”

  The fury in his sculpted face was evident. His reflective, abyss-like stare grew vacant in concentration. Suddenly startled, she jumped. Dorien's roar echoed from somewhere in the distance. Phebus’ screams of pain soon followed. Did Dorien see telepathic images of her battered belly? Evangeline shivered. She was thankful to be far away from Phebus. “I’m so glad we’re over here.”

  Paraebates’ knowing gaze bore into hers. She felt the soothing caress of his undivided attention. “This is why I brought you here, Evangeline. There are some things a tender woman should never have to witness.”

  * * * *

  Dorien stood on the roof. Minoan storm clouds had receded as quickly as they had come. The full moon now shone bright, basking the Earth in its illuminating glow. There was no doubt, when Evangeline turned, she would see him.

  The woman he loved took a few more steps before turning towards the cottage. She was covered from head to toe in dried mud. The dark circles under her eyes looked beautiful in comparison to the swelling and bruising on her face and arms. Dorien cringed to think of the damage her clothing hid from his immortal view. He knew how much she suffered from the wretched hands of Phebus.

  Dorien’s eyes narrowed in hatred. Revenge would be swift and sweet. The rogue would pay a bounty for laying his hands on her! He barked orders telepathically. His men stood armed and ready, waiting for his command. The tasks were simple. Celeas and Philip would hunt Phebus. Paraebates would rescue Evangeline and carry her into the safety of the forest. Now he only waited for the timing. It didn’t take very long. Evangeline choked on a sob the moment she made eye contact with him.

  The woman he loved never questioned him. She turned and ran with all of her might. Phebus reacted, just as expected. He was quick to begin his chase. His large boots had just enough time to take a few crunched steps on the dead, yellowed grass. Dorien and Celeas leapt off the roof and hit the ground running. Olympic victor Philip caught up and passed them in his dust. He tackled Phebus in an instant and tumbled the minion into a twisted helix that slammed him against the ground. Celeas joined Philip. They held down the one who thrashed and screamed. The minion couldn’t escape the vice of their iron grips.

  The tyrant was subdued and forced to stand on his knees. Philip and Celeas held him up by his outstretched arms. Dorien nodded to his men in proud satisfaction. He circled his prey like a predator. With a loud Spartan cry, Dorien charged at Phebus. His body crushed into the minion’s face and chest. Phebus flew back several feet.

  Phebus’ high voice was haunting. A shrill cry echoed through the forest like a possessed banshee. Rocks and foliage gouged and scraped as he slid on his scarred back. His body jerked violent. He screamed aloud in pain. Philip and Celeas tackled him and pried his mouth open in wait for Dorien.

  Dorien reached into his crusted pocket and grabbed one of the gifted vials of Ambrosia. He thrust the tube into Phebus’ mouth and emptied its contents down his throat. The minion gagged and sputtered, but Dorien squeezed and manipulated his neck to force his swallow. Supernatural liquid gurgled its way into the pit of the minion’s belly. They waited for it to burn and violate his body.

  Phebus rocked and howled. His hate-filled eyes rolled into the back of his sockets. Violent convulsions seized and thrashed his scarred body. Tears rolled down the sides of his hideous, patch-work face. Blood and snot oozed from every orifice. The demon bellowed as if someone burned him alive. Color slowly flooded into his cheeks. Cold skin began to change. It was replaced with soft, warm flesh. His vivid, possessed eyes returned to a dull, soft gray.

  Dorien glanced at his brothers. Memory could never fade the pain of slipping into immortality. They all knew well the agony was no different leaving it. The change in Phebus’ eye color was dramatic. Immortality had a way of altering the color. Normal mortal shades were enhanced into something rare and vibrant. He and his men all had a unique variation of vivid colors. None of theirs was the same. His own green eyes had never been this intense. Immortal traits always amplified every mortal one. He found himself pondering what traits his children would possess.

  Dorien’s attention flew back to Phebus. The minion’s barbaric seizures ended abrupt. Phebus rolled on the ground and moaned in his weakness. Crawling to his knees, he fell back clumsily onto his buttocks. It was obvious he was still disoriented.

  Images of Evangeline’s bruised belly commandeered Dorien’s thoughts. Like a portrait, he could see it. Dark bruises marred the delicate flesh that covered his growing babes. Angry streaks of blood had pooled and seeped across the expanse of her abdomen.

  Dorien roared and lost his temper. The muscles in his chest, shoulders, and biceps seized. His whole body shook. Wanton rage fueled him. Without warning, he grabbed Phebus by his throat and lifted him high into the air. He punched the minion in the center of his jig-saw face. The force of the blow cracked loud like the sharp jerk of a long braided leather whip. It blew on impact. Nasal bones and sinus cavity shattered completely. Crimson blood flowed down the minion’s face like a raging river. Phebus screamed in agony. He tried to breathe while his body flew back another several feet. Dorien stalked and punched his victim with repeated blows.

  He would pay for every mark he placed on her body!

  Dorien grabbed Phebus by his torn, bloodied shirt. He sent another punch deep into the rogue’s gut. Phebus fell to his scraped up knees and vomited bright green bile. Bloody chunks of the minion’s teeth lay broken and scattered all over the ground. Gore continued to pulse from the damage on his face. He managed to pull a shiny knife from his pocket.

  Philip couldn’t help it. His head jerked towards Dorien. Sight of the minion’s blade made him chuckle out loud. One of his raven brows rose. It matched the sarcasm that completely commandeered his face. “Seriously? A knife? What part of this do you honestly think will wound us?”

  “You Spartans think you’
re something else!” Phebus charged at Dorien. At the last second he turned the blade towards himself. His intentional dive on the ground drove the dagger deep into the minion’s chest. Phebus screamed and hissed and writhed from the trauma. He eventually rolled onto his back. His spine was arched so high, Dorien was sure his back would break. Kneeling on the ground, Dorien searched the hate-filled face staring up at him. Phebus moaned and sobbed. His mangled hands encompassed the knife’s handle. They all knew what Phebus was trying to do. Pulling the blade from his chest would quickly end his suffering.

  Celeas placed a solid hand over the knife’s hilt. His liquid silver eyes glowed with promise. Death wouldn’t claim the minion so easily.

  “Please! Pull it out!” Phebus begged with a gasp.

  Celeas could not be swayed. “Nay! Any man who strikes a woman deserves no mercy! You will take your lumps, just as you forced Evangeline and the rest of us.”

  Phebus gasped for breath. Healthy mortal color slowly drained and faded back to pale. Blood pooled streams of crimson down the sides of his hideous face and chest. Dorien placed his authoritative hand on Celeas’ arm. “This fight belongs to me, Leo.”

  Celeas bowed his head in submission and took a respective step away.

  Dorien placed his hands on the dagger’s hilt. With a deep, intentional shove he plowed the blade into Phebus’ chest. He withdrew the blade only after feeling the grated sever of the aortic artery. Phebus cried out a final gasp. Like a fish out of water he sucked for denied breaths. The minion was aware he was bleeding out internally. He managed to squeeze Dorien’s arm in appreciation. Fitful chokes and sputters confirmed he was drowning in his blood. His hateful eyes grew wide before they relaxed and slowly glazed over. Phebus’ body stilled forever.

  Philip nodded at Dorien. “It is over.”

  Dorien lowered his head and considered his brother’s words. Philip was only partially right. It was only over where the minion was concerned. “I’m afraid Demona is still another story.”

  Celeas growled in recognition of her name. “The witch!”

  Dorien gritted his teeth. “Aye, Leo. Demona still haunts us all. Let us bury the minion and forget this worthless man ever existed.”

  * * * *

  They approached Paraebates without a sound. But his brother already knew they were coming. His black reflective eyes met Dorien’s stare before his head bowed low in submission. Paraebates gave his prince every telepathic reassurance. His beloved Evangeline slept safe in his brother’s arms.

  Dorien sighed in relief. The damp earth sounded moist and hollow when he fell to his knees. He collected Evangeline’s limp body from the outstretched arms of Paraebates. She never stirred.

  Paraebates’ cheek twitched in knowing anger. He was quick to deliver his report. “She is bruised and exhausted, Dorien, but the babes move often. The beat of their hearts remain strong.”

  Dorien brushed the hair away from Evangeline’s swollen face. He kissed her bloodied mouth. His whole world rested in the safety of his arms. As if on instinct, Evangeline began to move. Her eyelashes slowly fluttered open. “Dorien?”

  He felt the sap of her weakness. In an effort to save her energy, he silenced her with another tender kiss. “Shhh. I am here, my love.” he whispered in his Spartan tongue.

  “I-I thought no one would come for me. I was afraid I would die with our little ones…” she began to cry.

  Dorien tensed and shook. He suppressed the sob that formed at the thought of losing her and his children. His muscled arms squeezed tight in an effort to control his emotions. Evangeline cried out in pain from the pressure of his flex against her bruises.

  He relaxed in an instant, and cradled and rocked her so tender. Dorien continued to speak to her in his Spartan Greek. “You’re in my arms now, my love. I’ll never let you go. No one will ever take you from me again.”

  The light reflecting in her copper eyes made her look so innocent. She reminded him of a child. Her stare was filled fear. “Phebus...is he dead?”

  “Yes, Evan. He is dead and will not bother us again.”

  “Did you…?”

  Dorien read her thoughts. “No. He took his own life. I only put him out of his misery.”

  “Well, how did he…?”

  Dorien and the others chuckled at her curiosity. “I gave him one of the vials of Ambrosia he threw at us in the pit. He had hoped Philip and I would drink of it and take our own lives. He was mortal when he died. The minion is free…no longer bound to Demona’s evil curses. We buried him just over the hill.”

  Evangeline shivered. Her eyes enlarged with panic at the sudden mention of her brother’s name. Evangeline reached for Philip. Her battered fingers searched for him blind. “Philip?”

  Philip kneeled before her in a flash and helped her delicate fingers find him. He held her weak hand against his cheek.

  “I was so afraid I had lost you and Dorien. I was so worried.”

  Philip’s cold hand covered hers gently. He closed his angry, ice blue eyes. “Dorien is right, Evan. Nothing will take you from us again, little sister.”

  Tears streamed down her lovely face. As filthy as she was, Dorien could argue no other woman could ever be so beautiful. Evangeline gazed at her new brothers.

  “Thank you for coming after me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you all.”

  Celeas and Paraebates smiled. Their heads bowed in respect.

  “Evan. You have met Paraebates. I would like you to meet Celeas, or Leo, as we sometimes call him.”

  Celeas’ grin was full of mayhem. He gave his best bow. His liquid metallic gaze shone like bullets. “It is an honor to meet you, Evangeline. Philip told us of our new family. It has been many years since I have been able to bully a sister.”

  Evangeline offered a hand. “Thank you, Leo.”

  Celeas lifted her hand and bestowed a lingering kiss on top of it. All heads turned in unison when a primal growl came from Dorien. Celeas raised his hands in submission. “Rest easy, my Prince. I have no desire to steal your lady away. Just meeting her proper is all.”

  Everyone laughed. Evangeline searched their faces. “And what of Thessalus? Was he ever found?

  Dorien chuckled. It was followed by the knowing snickers of the others.

  “Yes, love. Thessalus is safe. He has been a little preoccupied this evening.” Dorien knew Evangeline analyzed the meaning of his words. But she was growing weaker by the minute. Her diminished state didn’t escape Paraebates attention.

  “Dorien, we must get Evangeline to safety. She has been through much already. Her body is unable to take much more. We cannot risk your babes coming early.”

  Dorien stood with a single jump. He held Evangeline close. “Aye, Pops. I agree. We must get her back to the hotel.”

  “But what about Taryn and Thessalus? Aren’t they still at the battlefield?”

  Dorien marveled at the beauty in his arms. It didn’t matter the situation. She always thought of others above her own needs.

  “Nay, my Love. They have already left for the hotel.”

  “But how are we going to get there? We don’t have the van.”

  Celeas smirked in mischief. “There is nothing like a good run, little sister.”

  * * * *

  They entered through the automatic hotel lobby doors. It was impossible to miss the reactions of horror from fellow hotel guests. Evangeline was so embarrassed! The room felt hot in an instant. Her face and chest flushed crimson. She glancing around and realized it was no wonder. They were all covered from head to toe in dried, caked mud!

  Celeas and Paraebates were mostly-naked. They carried helmets, swords, and shields. Evangeline didn’t worry about what anyone thought of her new brothers. She loved them and didn’t give a rip what they wore or how they looked! But she was mortified by her own wretched state. She must look, and smell, like a muddy, beaten-up, she-beast!

  How could Dorien and the others stand the stench of her?

  Evangeli
ne groaned in humiliation. Her open palm rested flush against her forehead. If she was granted a single wish, it would be to hide away from the world. In unison, her brothers moved into tight formation. They encompassed her and Dorien. She felt their protection. They shielded her from the risk of prying eyes. Evangeline studied their sculpted faces and gazed at them in wonder. Each of them returned a wink, smile, or a nod.

  Dorien gazed down at her and grinned. The twinkle in his emerald eyes promised her so much more. She blushed and rested her head against his muscled chest. She fought to keep her thoughts pure. But the surrounding chuckles confirmed she wasn’t doing a very good job. Her face flushed hot like fire.

  Celeas’ knowing grin was priceless. “Nay, Evangeline. You are being a good girl. I’m afraid we can’t say the same for Dorien.”

  Taryn’s hotel room door opened within a couple of knocks. They were greeted with a warm reception. Taryn ran to Evangeline and wrapped her loving arms around her. “Evan, thank Heavens you’re all back safe. Are you all right? I tried to get that maniac off of you! And then those statues!”

  Evangeline didn’t want her friend to spill any more information. Eliza wouldn’t understand these special circumstances. “I know, Taryn, it’s all right. Everything turned out well.” Evangeline tapped Dorien’s shoulder. He must have read her mind because he released her from his arms and set her feet on the floor. She stood in front of him and leaned back against him for support.

  Eliza seemed confused. “Are these more of Dorien’s friends?”

  “These are his brothers, Mum! Remember, I told you he has a lot of brothers?”