“Tory?” Urian asked.
“Long story.” Acheron let out a tired sigh. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll go deal with him.”
Deal with me … yeah. The coward had never dealt with him. He just tossed Styxx into his next prison and put him out of his thoughts.
The doors flew open in a staunch show of power much like Archon used to do when he reigned here. Dressed in an Atlantean formesta that bore Acheron’s sun symbol and a pair of black leather pants, his brother walked toward him like a predator. As if such a move would ever intimidate a man who’d been forced to fight every day for his life.
And as Acheron approached, Styxx heard the voice that was tormenting Acheron at the sight of him.
Estes’s.
How dare you make me want you like you do. I hate you for what you do to me, you disgusting whore. I. Hate. You.
Yeah, Estes had fucked them both in so many ways.
“I’m really not in the mood to deal with you, Styxx. What little patience I have was eaten alive about two minutes ago.”
That explained some of the throbbing pain Styxx had. It worsened as Acheron neared. So, everything he felt wasn’t all from Simi’s attack. Figured.
Styxx forced himself to be submissive even though it went completely against his nature. “I know. I can sense your moods … it was a gift,” he said sarcastically since Acheron couldn’t remember the fact that he’d been the one who gave it to Styxx when their life forces were joined together by Acheron’s mother, “from Artemis when she threw me into Tartarus. I’m only here to ask you one favor.”
Acheron sneered at him. “You would dare ask another favor of me?”
When the hell had he ever asked Acheron for a first one?
Oh yeah … that’s right. He remembered now.
Please, brother, please, send me to Katateros and let me starve alone in the temple where the gods passed me around like a bitch and beat me. That was the favor Acheron spoke of. And how magnificent was his brother’s benevolence.…
Don’t open your stupid mouth.
A fight wouldn’t get him out of here. Acheron was just like dealing with Apollo. Cater to the bastard’s arrogant ego and he was pliable. “I ask as your brother and as a supplicant to a god.”
There it was. That smug glower in those swirling silver eyes he knew so well from the others of Acheron’s ilk. The ancient gods enjoyed their power and they lived to hold it over all humans. “As a supplicant, what sacrifice do you offer for this favor?”
Styxx had to force himself to stand perfectly still and not react to his brother’s obvious baiting. At least he wasn’t naked in a room full of Didymosian citizens with his father glaring while Ryssa laughed at his degradation.
I have nothing, thanks to you and your whore mother.
He could only think of one last commodity that he’d never need again. “My heart.”
Acheron scowled. “I don’t understand.”
Of course he didn’t. He didn’t have one himself so how could he comprehend what Styxx meant?
Disgusted, he explained it. “I offered you my loyalty and it wasn’t enough. So in this, I offer my heart to you. If I lie or betray you, you can rip it out over and over again. Chain me next to Prometheus on his rock.” And hopefully when you rip it out, mine won’t grow back.
That seemed to finally appease the bastard. “And what favor do you ask?”
“Let me go.” Styxx had to pause to steady his voice and remove the pain and anger he held from it. “I can’t live here anymore, isolated from people. I just want to have some kind of peace that neither of us ever had a chance to experience.”
It took Acheron forever before he finally answered. “Fine. You’ll have everything you need to start over.”
Before Styxx could finish expelling a relieved breath, he was sucked out of the throne room and slammed facedown into the center of an apartment.
Loud sirens screamed above a dull roar. Styxx pushed himself up. The walls and ceiling were a stark white, as were the floor-to-ceiling curtains. A small black leather sofa was set against the wall with two matching armchairs facing it. A large, rectangular ottoman rested between them and under it all was a massive zebra-skin rug. Between the two armchairs was a granite fireplace, and a giant TV hung above it.
Where am I now?
Styxx was almost afraid of finding out as he crossed the room. He pushed the curtains aside to discover a large sliding glass door that looked out over some kind of park. None of it told him anything about his location. Not that it really mattered. The only time he’d been in the human world in the last eleven thousand years was the few weeks he’d spent in New Orleans over four years ago.
Opening the doors, he walked out to discover a huge rooftop patio that was even bigger than the apartment. Huge shrubs were in granite planters so that they provided privacy to the area. A travertine table was set in the center of it, along with six iron chairs.
Wow, someone seriously overestimated his social skills to assume he’d ever have six people sitting at a table at the same time.
He returned inside to search for a clue about his new home. Finally, in a kitchen drawer, he found an envelope with the address. 444 Central Park West. New York, New York.
That meant nothing to him. For that matter, he had no idea where Old York was, never mind the new one. But it was written in English. Still not that helpful.
As he searched for more clues, he found a driver’s license with his name listed as Styxx Didymos, and his apartment information on it. A couple of credit cards, a bankbook, and other things he wasn’t sure about. One of them was a small burgundy red booklet that had his picture inside. What was a passport? Why would he need it? Certificate of Naturalization? None of it made sense to him.
“Thanks, Acheron.”
Once again, his brother had dumped him somewhere with no instructions or guidelines. Not even Dionysus had been this cruel.
Styxx took a deep breath and slid the drawer shut. Fine. He’d figured out how to lead an army into war as a child—he could certainly figure this out, too.
But honestly, it was worse here than finding himself alone on the islands. At least those had made sense to him. He’d known how to live there. How to function.
Here … not so much.
He laughed bitterly. Leave it to his brother to find a place where he was surrounded by people and still totally isolated.
November 20, 2008
Sitting at his bedroom desk, Styxx was busy on his PC playing the “New Atlantis” campaign for Age of Mythology. Yeah, it was weird to him, too, but strangely he found it almost comforting.
He was seriously gaining ground when he felt a strong presence behind him. Assuming it was Apollo, he jumped up, ready to fight.
It wasn’t Apollo.
Urian stood there, looking sheepish. That alone made his trepidation worsen. There was only one reason he could think of for Urian to look like that.…
“What does he think I’ve done now?”
Urian scowled. “Huh?”
“Acheron. Is he not the one who sent you for me?”
Urian shook his head. “He actually didn’t send me. I came to ask a favor.”
That shocked him completely. While he and Urian had kept in touch since Styxx had been put here, Urian wasn’t the type of man to ask for a favor. “What do you need?”
“Acheron’s woman, Tory, has been kidnapped and taken into Kalosis where his mother is. Ash is ready and willing to go get her.” Which would free his mother from her prison and end the world.
Styxx stood completely stoic at the news. I don’t have a dog in this fight. What do I care?
At least that was what he tried to tell himself. But it was obvious that Urian cared and didn’t want to see his sister-in-law or his niece and nephews harmed.
Hesitating, Styxx knew better than to help his brother. Every time he’d ever tried had cost him dearly.
“Is Tory immortal?” he asked Urian.
�
��Completely human. She’s being held by my aunt Satara, who is unstable at best. Viciously brutal at worst.” Since Satara was the daughter of Apollo, Styxx could well imagine her cruelty.
Don’t do it. Acheron wouldn’t do it for you.…
“You’re going in with him, aren’t you?”
Urian nodded.
Grandson of Apollo. One of Apollymi’s former chief Daimons. Acheron’s right-hand. Styxx should hate the man in front of him with everything he had. But Urian had been kind to him and something about the boy brought out the protector in Styxx. It made no sense whatsoever. And no matter how hard he tried to fight it, he couldn’t send Urian on a suicide mission alone.
Damn it.
Styxx sighed at the most obvious reason why Urian would be here. “You want me to pretend to be Acheron?”
“You did it once to help an enemy. Would you do it again to help a friend?”
Styxx laughed bitterly. “How would I know? I’ve only had two friends in my life and both were brutally murdered.”
“You don’t consider me a friend?”
“No, I consider you a hemorrhoid.”
Urian grinned, flashing his fangs at Styxx. “Ah now, that’s just mean.”
“Yeah, yeah … Fine. But I am doing this for you and the innocent woman, not Acheron.”
“Well, on behalf of myself and Tory, I can’t thank you enough. By the way, how are your battle skills?”
Styxx snorted. “According to my father, I never had any. I shoved my men out in front of me, and hid behind their fallen bodies for cover.”
Scowling, Urian didn’t comment as he teleported Styxx to a small room.
Styxx froze as he saw Acheron beside a huge Chthonian named Savitar. This had been the man who’d trained his brother after death on how to use his god powers. In short, Savitar was Acheron’s Galen … only Savitar was immortal and bloodthirsty.
Every bit as tall as they were, Savitar had dark hair and a perfect goatee. His eyes were an iridescent lavender and strangely reminded Styxx of something …
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but in the back of his mind was some hidden message his brain was trying to give him.
His jaw slack, Savitar looked back and forth between Acheron and Styxx. “Holy Were-shit. This messes with my head.”
Acheron glared at Styxx. “What is he doing here?”
“You can’t go in,” Urian reminded him. “Styxx can.”
“No.” Acheron was emphatic.
“Stop,” Savitar snapped. “The kid has a point. Think about it. You can get Tory out of there and not end the world. Win-win.”
The hatred in Acheron’s eyes was searing. “I’m not leaving him alone with Tory. I don’t trust him with her.”
Styxx was aghast. “What do you think I’m going to do?”
“Rape her, kill her … with you there’s no telling.”
Now that infuriated him. He’d never done anything for Acheron to hold those suspicions about his character. “With me? Really?” He shoved Acheron.
Acheron ran at Styxx, but Savitar caught him and pushed him back a step. “Stop thinking with your emotions. Calm down.” Then Savitar turned to glare at Styxx. “And you, punk, lay off him or I’ll fry your greasy ass where it stands. I know I can kill you and not kill Acheron. So don’t push me.”
Styxx snorted in derision. “That is not the way to motivate me to leave him alone, Chthonian. But it’s a hell of a one to make me attack.” He met Acheron’s swirling silver gaze. Gods, he wanted to bury a dagger right between his brother’s traitorous eyes. He really, really did.
Instead, he snatched his sleeve back to show his brother his forearm. “I know what it’s like to lose the only thing you love, and to be forced to live without her for eternity. As bad as I want to cut your throat and watch you bleed out at my feet for the insult you just dealt me, I won’t see your woman dead for it. Unlike your fucking whore mother, I don’t kill innocents.”
Both Savitar and Acheron blasted him for that comment. Styxx hit the wall behind him so hard, he broke through part of it. The air left his lungs while pain temporarily paralyzed him. Blood ran from his lips, ears, and nose.
Before Styxx could breathe again, Urian was by his side. His face was a mask of rage as he glared at Acheron. “What are you doing? I asked him here to help you and you kill him? Good job. Both of you. Congrats, you stupid assholes.”
“He insulted my mother,” Acheron roared.
“No offense, boss, your mother killed his wife and his son. Instead of putting him through a wall, I want you both to take one second and imagine his loss. I have buried almost every member of my family. And the one thing that truly tore my heart out was losing Phoebe. You mourn your sister, Ash? So did I. Trust me, it ain’t shit till you lose your wife, especially when you know you should have been at home protecting her, and not leaving her to die brutally by the hand of your enemies.” He turned and helped Styxx extricate himself from the wall.
Styxx stumbled then caught himself. It was so hard to breathe. Every rib felt broken.
“I’m sorry,” Urian said. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”
Styxx spat the blood in his mouth on the floor. “Trust me, they’re pussies compared to the real Atlanteans I fought.”
They went to blast him again.
Holding his arms out, Urian shielded Styxx with his body.
Styxx stepped around Urian then patted him on the shoulder. “I’m not afraid of them. Hits, I can take. After all, I was slapped on the ass the minute I was born, and not a damn thing has changed since.”
Acheron curled his lip. “Don’t listen to him, Urian. He’s a liar and a thief. He was never married. He was only engaged, and he never had a son.”
Bitterness choked Styxx as those words infuriated him all the more. “You know nothing about me, brother. After all, I’m just a liar and a thief to you.”
Styxx paused as the harsh reality of Acheron’s misconceptions slapped him hard. “By the way, tell Artie thanks for the memories. ’Cause now I not only know everything about what really happened to you, I know what you honestly think of me. I would say that one day I would love to return the favor, but truthfully the only person I hate that much is your putrid mother.”
Still bleeding inside and out, Styxx wiped his hand across his face and spoke the words to his brother that he used to say to Apollo to drive the god into a murderous fury. “Now either use me, or send me home. I’m in no mood to play.”
Savitar took a deep breath as he faced Acheron. “Urian’s right. Styxx is the best shot we have at getting her out alive. We don’t know what going into Kalosis will do to you, Ash. It could rip out your human soul and leave you nothing but your mother’s tool for destruction. If that happens, you’re as likely to kill Tory as they are.”
Acheron shook his head. “It’ll never work. His voice is hoarser than mine. And no one’s going to believe I cut my hair off and bleached it blond.”
Savitar snapped his fingers. Instantly, Styxx’s hair was an exact copy of Acheron’s. Long and black. He even had fangs and matching clothes. “I can’t mess with his voice. But they can assume you’ve been screaming insults at them. It would account for the difference.”
“That is creepy,” Urian said, running his gaze up and down Styxx’s body and then Acheron’s. “Really creepy.”
“He still doesn’t move like me.”
Styxx scoffed. “People aren’t that observant. As you saw in New Orleans.”
Savitar inclined his head to Urian and Styxx. “Let’s do this, ladies. And Styxx … for the record, you let anything happen to Tory and I will hand-deliver you to Apollymi for her eternal enjoyment.”
Styxx laughed out loud at the impotent threat, which made both Acheron and Savitar scowl at him. “What’s she going to do, Savitar? Drag me out into an arena butt-ass naked, make me fight elite Atlantean champions until I can barely stand, set her starving dogs or leopards on me, and then have me publicly fucked for
her entertainment? Or better yet, gut me on the floor … or how about this … murder my wife and child, and make me live with that for eternity in a dark hole by myself? Sure … threaten me. Go ahead and make me live in total fear and terror.” Flipping Savitar off, he turned to Urian. “Get me out of here.”
Urian scowled at him. “You’re really not sane, are you?”
“No, Urian. I’m not. A sane man would have told you to go to hell and meant it.”
Shaking his head, Urian opened something that appeared to be a giant swirling gold ball. “Walk this way.” He stepped into it and vanished.
Without so much as glancing at Savitar or Acheron, Styxx followed. Then wished he hadn’t as he fell and was twisted through a bright, pulsing light.
When he finally stopped falling, he was inside a main room that was filled with Daimons and demons.
Beautiful.
Styxx let out a severely annoyed groan. “Great location, Uri,” he said under his breath. “Think one of them is willing to sell us a summer home here?”
Urian grinned at him. “You can always ask.”
Every demon and Daimon was frozen into place by their sudden appearance in the middle of their hall. It probably wasn’t often that dinner was delivered in such a high-handed manner.
Styxx cut a sideways glance to Urian. “What are they waiting for?”
Urian winked at him. “Armageddon.”
Styxx narrowed his eyes on Stryker. He was the only Daimon who dyed his hair black. Even in height with Styxx, Stryker looked enough like Apollo that Styxx really wanted to punch him for it.
Stryker glared at his son with an expression that was best defined as pained hatred. “You dare to stand with my enemy?”
“Against you, Father, I’d stand with Mickey Mouse.”
Styxx had no idea who this Mickey was, but it was obvious from Stryker’s expression Mickey was a lowly person.
Stryker curled his lip. “You worthless son of a bitch. You should have never been anything more than a cum stain.”
Urian scoffed. “I could definitely say the same thing about you. It would have saved the world and all of us a lot of misery now, wouldn’t it?”
Styxx (DH #33) Page 77