by Celia Aaron
“Let me go!” I tried to wrench my hand away from him. But he was strong, stronger than any immortal I had ever fought.
The air around me flickered, my magic seeking to break through, but the dispelling bangles kept my powers in check.
He leaned me back and pushed me down onto the couch. Settling on top of me, he smiled as if he’d won a victory. His body was hard against mine. His bottomless gaze had not warmed, but the rest of him was on fire. His shaft pulsed against my thigh, and my gorge rose.
“You see, it is you, Helen. You are mine.”
His words were like a jolt to my system, a strong wave of déjà vu rushing over me. I sensed memories, but more palpably, a deep warning. The panic rose within me, threatening to engulf me and my plans of escape. My heart beat rapidly, as caged in my chest as I was in this mansion. I tried to calm myself, to strategize, but I was helpless, trapped by a demon who I feared had some dark claim on me.
“You know it’s me, Helen.” His voice had dropped to a whisper as he greedily eyed my mouth.
He ran a hand through my hair and then pulled viciously, exposing my neck. He fastened his lips to my skin, grazing my birthmark with the sharp tips of his canines. I cried out, revulsion overcoming my resolve, and readied my plea to Artemis to save me from this fate. But it wasn’t necessary.
The door I’d been eyeing burst inward, showering the room in dust and splinters. The stranger jumped from the couch and rushed to it, giving me the opening I had been waiting for. I darted to the door we’d first entered, but it was locked.
The stranger stalked through the blasted opening without giving me so much as a glance. Was he so confident in his trap? I furiously twisted the door handle, but the lock was solid. Before I could search the room for something to use as a lockpick, I heard the mechanism click over. There was no time to question it. I swung the door wide and dashed into the hall. I took off at a run back toward the front door, but only managed a handful of steps before an arm as strong as iron encircled me. A hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my scream before it even lofted from my lungs.
Chapter Five
Helen
Troy
1252 BC
I ran my hand along Paris’s jaw, feeling the tickle of stubble beneath my fingers. The light was fading, signaling the coming gloom and my deepening disquiet.
“I’m coming back, you know,” he said.
I sighed and snuggled closer to him, relishing his warmth. “I know.” But dread had gripped my heart ever since I learned of Menelaus’s challenge. At sunset, my beloved would meet my husband on the field of battle outside the walls of Troy. Menelaus had never been defeated, a demon of martial prowess that rivaled that of the gods. He had an army of mortals at his back, fooled into believing their leader was Greek. Instead, they followed the darkest demon, bent on destruction.
A tear slid down my cheek, landing on the golden hair at Paris’s chest.
“Shh,” he said and stroked my back. “I will always come for you.” He pulled me to him and possessed my lips, our breaths and tendrils of our souls mingling. I wished it would always be like this, the two of us together.
I broke the kiss as tears rose in my eyes. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” His cerulean gaze made a promise I knew couldn’t be guaranteed. Death prowled the edges of the room, sneaking through the shadows of the coming night.
He commanded my mouth again and pulled me astride him, pressing me into him as he palmed my backside. Even in my fear, he kindled a fire within me. I entwined my arms around his neck and rocked against him. His shaft had already thickened against my core.
With a fluid movement, he rolled me onto my back and spread my legs wide. He claimed me, a sharp sigh escaping my lips as he thrust fully into me.
Paris watched me, holding my gaze as he withdrew and sank back into me, the pleasure strengthening our already-powerful bond. I wouldn’t let fear take this moment from me. I’d lose myself in him.
He bent his head to lick my nipple before encircling it with his lips, sucking it, and sending chills down my body. His steady rhythm never stopped as I clutched the sheets, feeling the bliss building up within me.
He reached down and stroked me with his thumb, causing a moan to rise from my lips. His rhythm quickened. He pulled back and watched as I arched for him, as if wanting to sear this moment into his memory forever. I pushed the thoughts of forever out of my mind and focused on the here and now. I returned his gaze and trailed lower, watching the clenching muscles of his torso as he continued rocking into me, filling me. I raised my hips, wanting every inch of contact with him, needing to feel the delicious friction. I wrapped my fingers in his hair and pulled his head to mine, again partaking in the sweet communion of our kiss.
His tongue was adept at teasing me into wanting more. Knowing what I craved, he sped his pace and lifted me from the bed, sitting me atop him and leaning me back so he had free access to my breasts. With one arm behind me, he used the other hand to continue stroking me into a frenzy as his mouth played at one nipple and the next.
“Gods,” I breathed.
“Helen,” he growled, no doubt feeling me tightening around him, the peak of my ecstasy approaching.
Spreading my legs even more to increase the contact, I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. He pulled me back up to him and locked his lips on my tender neck as my nipples grazed his hard chest. The feeling was too much. I cried his name as I came, helpless to stop myself. The pleasure surged through every inch of me, and the air around us hissed with my magic. With a final powerful thrust, I felt him erupt, his seed filling me. His strokes were sure and strong, pumping the fullness of his life into me. When we were both spent, he fell back toward the foot of the bed and clutched me to his chest.
I clung to him, feeling his strong heartbeat thumping a steady rhythm against me. I closed my eyes. Ignoring the deepening shadows—the harbinger of darker deeds to come—I focused on the warmth and life of my beloved Paris.
Chapter Six
Paris
I gunned through the iron gate, destroying it along with the front end of the car I’d stolen from Menelaus. My diversion of blowing the antechamber door worked perfectly, sending the demon searching through the house while I was able to rescue Helen. She sat next to me, glowering from the passenger seat. No doubt she was torn about fleeing with me or staying and trying to find an escape of her own. But the dispelling bracelets—though the thought of anyone daring to bind her raised my rage—made her choice for her. She could not cast her way out of this situation. She needed me. Thank the gods.
The nearness of her was overwhelming my senses. Her smell, her very aura speaking to my long-dormant heart. I needed to keep my eyes on the road as we tore through the night, but I kept glancing at her, even though she glared at me. I noted only two changes in her; the runes on one side of her neck and a pink welt on the other, something akin to a birthmark. But I remembered her body as if it were my own, and no such mark had ever lain upon her skin before. Curious.
“Take me back to Roth’s chateau.” Her voice was cold, insistent on her command.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“It is possible, and you are going to do it right now, or I will call Artemis and all her warriors down on your head.”
“Do you want your sisters dead?” My words were harsh, but she didn’t understand the danger that had landed at her doorstep.
“You would dare threaten my sisters?” she hissed.
“I’m not the threat.” I shifted into higher gear as I whipped along the curving road back to the city. The engine roared, mimicking the tumult in my mind.
“Listen, Helen—”
“Elena.”
I curbed my comeback. “Fine, listen, Elena. That demon back there will stop at nothing to possess you. He will burn your sisters, this city, and the world to the ground before he will willingly let you go. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’
t understand! Take me to my sisters, now, or so help me, I will call down the wrath of Artemis.”
She eyed the door handle, and I quickly flicked the locks into place. Neither of us had time for any escape except for the one we would make together, gods willing.
“You can’t call on Artemis.”
“Do you want to wager on that?” The fire in her voice made the air sizzle around her. Her power was bound, not broken.
“If you do, she will strike both of us dead.”
“Nonsense—well, only half is nonsense.” She smirked. “You will most certainly be dead. Artemis will see to it.”
I couldn’t allow her to even attempt summoning the goddess, so I dropped the bomb in the calmest voice I could. “She thinks we are in love and have run away together.”
Helen stilled her desperate search for an escape before turning to me, her jaw set in lines of fury. “What?”
“When you left Olympus, I was desperate to follow, so I told her about us.” I shrugged.
Her eyes flashed, and she fisted her hands. “I see now. I see why Artemis has abandoned me. This is all your fault. She did this because of your lies. Making up some nonsense about us being together. And there is no us,” she said between clenched teeth.
“It’s not a lie. We have been lovers for thousands of years. I simply reminded Artemis of that fact. She will offer you no aid, I promise you. You have been cast out, and I have a price on my head, courtesy of your mistress, among others.” Had I fucked the situation? Yes. But I didn’t have many options, not with Menelaus so close.
She ran her fingers down the mark of Artemis along the side of her neck. “No.” Her voice quavered the slightest bit.
“She may not have done it formally, but you are no longer in her good graces. Besides, you are powerful enough in your own right that any boost you get from Artemis is likely minimal at best. She won’t help you. Trust me on this.” I remembered the goddess’s vicious forehand along my jaw when I’d told her I was only there for Helen. The sting from her sharp slap had resonated for a full day afterward.
Helen pounded her fists on the dashboard, the heat I knew so well lighting her gaze and making me desperate to touch her, claim her again as mine. Gods, I had thought her dead for so long that just being near her, hearing her voice, catching her scent on the air—it was as if I had been reborn.
“Why do you think you know me? Why does that demon think I’m his wife? Why is there a mark on my back?” Her voice shook, anger in every note. She leaned forward for emphasis, showing me her bare flesh and the now-fading mark of Menelaus, the symbol of demon royalty.
I bristled at the sight of what the demon had done—in the past and now. I’d sworn long ago to end the vile creature but had no success. Menelaus was too well protected, always surrounded by a legion of warriors at his beck and call. He was a demon king, bred for battle and conquest, and he was obsessed with Helen. All the more reason I needed to get her to safety. “He won’t stop, Elena. Not until he has you again. Now that you’ve left Olympus, he can hunt you wherever you go. Our only chance is in the Underworld. We can hide there.”
Her eyes widened, the sincerity in my voice maybe reaching some part of her that remembered me. At least I hoped it was true, hoped there was something of me left in her heart.
Now that I had her attention, I stumbled on, trying to convince her of the truth. “Menelaus is, well, was, your husband. He is a demon king, and you are the fabled Helen of Troy. Troy was a powerful city, but only half filled with mortals. The other half, the ruling half, was the proud line of Priam—the reigning vampire clan of the Underworld. They sought to make a new life, away from the strife of the Bloodkeep, and free of the war that constantly raged between demon kind and vampires in the Underworld. The vampires founded Troy and built it into the jewel of earth, a shining beacon of trade and enlightenment.”
The lights that marked the outskirts of the city, now within reach, sparkled ahead. I knew where we needed to go to cross into the Underworld but had no time to prepare. We would have to go with what we had and hope it was enough.
She was silent, considering me. She didn’t actually say the word “bullshit,” but the set of her brow told me enough.
I wanted—no, I needed—her to believe me. But even I knew my words were a poor substitute for the knowledge of the life she’d lost.
I sped through the urban areas, racing toward the ramshackle row of Underworld shops in the heart of the city. They looked like run-down, crime-ridden areas to any mortal eye, and even to the immortal eye they could use some fresh paint. They were the only places in the city to get magical goods and one of the few places on the continent to cross over to the Underworld. The price was steep, as the magic necessary to maintain such a portal was intense. But I would pay any amount to keep Helen safe, to keep her out of Menelaus’s clutches.
“And I’m supposed to believe you are Paris, the Paris from the Trojan War, the one Helen was so in love with?” The incredulity in her tone rankled, but I would not let it put me off.
“Yes. The one you were so in love with. I was a mortal prince of Troy, adopted by the vampire king Priam.”
“You were mortal?”
“Yes.”
“Was I mortal?” she asked, the hint of ridicule still lacing her voice.
“You were, but you were no ordinary mortal. Your father was a god, Zeus by all accounts, though we never knew for sure. You had abilities that no mere mortal possessed. You could see a battle in your mind and plot each move ahead of time. You would always gain victory through your web of stratagems. And you had a magic so powerful that you became…” I trailed off, unsure of how to explain her past.
“I became what?” Her tone demanded an answer, and she had crossed her arms in disbelief.
“You became a commodity.” The term rolled off my tongue with an acidic inflection. I remembered every detail of how she described being ripped from her family, put on display, and sold to the highest bidder, Menelaus.
“I became a what?” She shrank back against the door of the car.
I didn’t want to continue telling her, but the words poured out of me. If I could only make her remember her past, then she would know the danger Menelaus presented, know that I was her only safe haven in this storm.
“Menelaus is your husband because he bought you at auction. He desired your powers and, above all, wanted your beauty for himself. So much so that he took you as his wife.”
The color was draining from her face at an alarming pace, as if my words struck home.
I continued punishing the engine, hurtling us toward salvation via a portal to the Underworld. “But then we met. He was away, and I was visiting the demon nobility of Greece in an effort to stem the violence that continued to rage in the Underworld. And then I saw you. You were so powerful, so beautiful, but there was something else, something that tore at my very heart.”
“What?” She still watched me intently, her green eyes stormy with thoughts. She was hanging on my every word.
“You were heartbroken. Something inside you had been torn asunder, but no one else seemed to care. They were all too caught up in your beauty and power to see the emptiness that haunted you. But I saw it, saw the pain you hid so bravely. And I didn’t want you to have to be brave anymore. I wanted you to live without fear, without remorse.” I meant every word. The memory of her strolling through a rose garden in the palace, her eyes watchful but not truly seeing, played through my mind. The moment I saw her, I knew I would sacrifice anything to love her, to see her eyes smile, to bring her whatever joy I could.
We pushed through the darkening evening, the skies becoming clouded and erasing the earlier silver light. I brought the car to a screeching halt in front of a dilapidated shop with the words CRANFEL’S WEAPONRY across the top in the goblin language.
“So we ran away together, back to Troy. But he wouldn’t let you go. He will never let you go. Even now he is behind us, seeking you. We don’t have long.”
I jumped from the vehicle as she did the same. Edging around toward her, I readied to catch her should she dart away. I would take her through the portal by force if I had to. I would hate myself for it, but I would do it to keep her safe. I would never let her come to harm again, never let death claim her. She made no move, just stood beneath the flickering streetlight and watched me.
“If I return to my sisters, he will come for me?” Her tone was measured, her arms still crossed against her chest.
“Yes, and bring a legion of his fiercest demons. None would survive such an onslaught. Not even the gods’ own cohort.” I motioned to the door. We had precious little time to slip through the portal before Menelaus was upon us.
I heard her heartbeat speed up, thudding against her ribs as if the thought of harm befalling her sisters taxed her system. “How do you know he won’t follow us to the Underworld?”
“He will. But the mark will not call him unless he comes near you. Proximity activates it. If you stay here with your sisters, he will find you, and his demons will kill them all. I’ve seen your sisters, watched them band together. They would do anything to save you. Believe me when I tell you that no matter their skill, no matter their passion, every last one of them will die so he can have you.”
She eyed Cranfel’s, her heart still hammering out the violent rhythm. Even if she didn’t completely believe me, I knew Helen would never endanger the ones she loved. Her own past, the one she didn’t remember, told me as much.
Screeching tires cut through the night, the sound of Menelaus and his minions in pursuit. Helen didn’t realize she was a lure, one that would draw the demon king every time.
“We must go, Elena. He is close, and I’m certain he’s not alone.” My fangs lengthened. I would fight to the death.
She took a step toward the shops, seemingly having made up her mind. “I have only two demands, and if you agree to them, I will go with you. First, I want these removed.” She shook her slender wrists, the dispelling bracelets hugging her skin.