by D. K. Combs
Ceto stepped through the portal, and was washed in blackness.
Cool air flowed around her body and before she knew it, Ceto was standing in the center of the shack. An oceanic breeze blew into the beautiful shack, lifting back her hair. It was just as she had left it. There were no windows to block the streaming light, and coming in through the cracks of the wood were rays of sun. It was her favorite place in the world, besides her cave.
Sitting at the table, nervously fidgeting with his fingers, was Austrux. His blonde hair was erratic, like wind had just blown through it, and his eyes were darting all over the room. When he saw her, he jumped to his feet.
“Listen, Ceto—”
“What is wrong?” she asked, injecting a hint of worry into her voice. Not that she was. Ceto hadn’t been worried about another creature since the day she had realized Maxroy would never be hers. Why start now? It caused wrinkles to form on her too-perfect skin.
“I don’t think that doing this is a very good idea. I mean, I’m all for getting revenge but I don’t want to be caught and killed!” He stalked around the room, shoving his hands in his hair. It hadn’t been wind that had given him the messy hair, but himself. He had been worrying himself sick, she realized.
Ceto forced the spark of irritation to the back of her mind, touching his shoulder gently. “Calm down, love. Breathe. Here, take a seat and let me get you something to drink—”
“No!” he shouted, jerking away from her arms. “I can’t do this, and you’re going to make me! Ceto, I can’t. I don’t want to die, okay? I have to take over my father’s business and it’ll go to no one if I’m not there!”
Ceto growled mentally. Okay, strike one for being a weak little bitch. Where had all of this panic come from? Just the day before he had been more than ready to take help her take out Ambrose.
See, Ceto was normally a …one-man person. She did things by herself, she didn’t accept help, and she rarely kept “friends” long enough to grow close to them. Austrux was the only person that she had kept on the side, if only because of the great sex. Ceto thought she had pretty good judgment, so why, when she had thought he would stay with her through this, was he backing out now?
Fury flashed through her, but she stilled it. The best way to deal with this was to appeal to his sense of humanity.
She looked at him, stricken. “But I thought that we were going to do this together,” she whispered, touching his arm. He looked between her face and her hand, jaw working.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t. I can’t and I won’t—“
“Austrux,” she said, making her voice catch a higher-pitch. She slowly took her hand from his arm, looking at him as if she were a kicked puppy. “How could you do this to me?”
Her broken voice floated into the empty air as he stared at her, swallowing.
Ceto turned her face away from him, letting her shoulders curl as if in defeat. “I thought we were in this together…Our future relied on this. Me and you, together…what happened?” she asked into the air.
She didn’t look at him and let the question hang in the air. Seagulls squalled at them from outside. It was so quiet in the shack that she could hear the beat of their wings, the crash of the waves on the beach. She sniffled, covering her mouth.
“Ceto…” he said quietly. She felt his hand on her arm a second later. When she looked at him, her eyes were tearing up and the first drop had begun it’s way down her cheek.
“He took my family, too, Austrux. Because of him, I lost the only two people I ever loved. This was supposed to be for us,” she said forcefully, tearing herself away from his arm. “He took something from you, as well. Your brother?” she hissed.
Austrux flinched. “Little Geri will never grow into the man he should be. He was so smart, do you remember? The best in his class.”
She saw the pain flash through his eyes and continued. If this didn’t work, she didn’t know what would. Maybe threatening his life? Forcing him? She couldn’t place him in her cave and make her to the dirty work. The only place she could force anyone, to do anything, was in her cave. And she needed Austrux out of the cave.
“Your baby sister. Vixya? Her laugh was the sweetest anyone ever heard. Her eyes….How blue they were,” she whispered, staring into his own eyes deeply. She saw the resistance begin to crumble, and pressed on.
“She used to come swimming up to you after training. Those innocent locks just floated behind her. Don’t you remember them? Your family? Your blood? Ambrose stole them from you,” she snarled, taking his arm in a tight grip.
His chest exhaled sharply, the fire of rage building in his eyes.
“He took the most innocent creatures and sent them to hell for his actions. And you—Vixya would feel so betrayed if you didn’t do anything about it. She’s probably watching over you, wondering why you aren’t getting retribution. For her. Her friends. Her stolen life.”
Austrux shoved a hand through his hair, but not from anxiety. She saw the agony that overcame his face before he fell to his knees.
“He took them,” he whispered.
She nodded, touching his back. “And we will be the ones to take him.”
He jerked into a sitting position, slamming his hands on the table.
“The girl,” he said harshly, eyes taking on a light that she liked way too much.
“What about her?”
“We can use her. He took from us, we take from him,” he sneered. Ceto only rolled her eyes.
“That’s so incredibly cliché that it makes me laugh. There are so many novels and movies about the girl being used—“
“Ambrose is going to be inducted as the king, once he defeats H’Sai, in the next week. After that, we will have lost our chance.”
Ceto froze. “King? Again? Ambrose is in Atlantis?” she shouted, standing to her feet so fast the chair crashed behind her.
“My uncle saw it for himself. He’s part of the guard, and said he saw them clear as day. Ambrose almost killed Erikos.”
Ceto stilled, only realizing then that she had been pacing the small space. “You can’t be serious,” she said, shoving her hand in her hair with frustration. “Are you positive it was him?”
“Yes…” She cast a dark look at him when he cast off. “My uncle told me something, though. I don’t even know if I should believe him or not because I saw her with my own eyes the first time…”
“What?” she snapped. What could possibly be worse than what she already knew? Ambrose’s bitch was the same status as she was—meaning there would have to be a formal battle for her to die, and apparently Ambrose was about to regain his throne. God damn it, how could things be going so well for them?!
Rage, so intense that it almost scared even Ceto, surged through her so hard and quick that she could hardly breathe.
What Austrux said next didn’t help her at all.
“It seems that Mari is…” He paused, face twisting as if searching for the correct words. “It seems that Mari is no longer a minor goddess.”
Ceto stopped moving. The rage, the plan, everything. It all stopped moving for her.
“What do you mean?” she whispered, slowly walking towards him. His own face was confused, like he didn’t know how, or what, to say.
“She has the bearings of a god. A full Atlantean primary god. Black tail, red fins. Even her eyes, my uncle said, flashed red when Ambrose began attacking Erikos.”
“Are you sure that is what he saw?” she demanded.
“Positive.” He nodded.
Ceto blew out a barely calm breath, closing her eyes. How the fuck was this even possible? She looked at Austrux, who hadn’t looked away from her once.
“We should take the girl,” he said again, this time more forcefully.
Ceto growled. “Could have sworn I said that it was the dumbest idea I had ever heard of. She’s a god now. How well do you think that’s going to go when we show up and godnap her?”
Austrux smiled malici
ously. “She doesn’t know how to use her powers.”
“And you’re sure of that how? You haven’t seen that side of her for yourself.”
“She’s a mortal turned Atlantean, Ceto. You can smell it coming off of her in waves. A mortal doesn’t know jack shit about our world; how could she have learned so quickly? And it might just be a ploy by the real gods, disguising her as one of their own,” he suggested, leaning back into the rickety chair and crossing his arms over his chest, a smug look taking over his face.
See, Ceto thought. That’s what she hated about males. They were always so smart, so right. They thought they knew everything and always wanted things to go their way. Like hell was Ceto actually going to let this man get away with thinking he was—
A dark look came over his face, completely at odds with the messy blonde locks that surrounded his face. “How about this? Either we do it my way, or I report you to any higher power that I can find.”
Fury engulfed her. “Are you serious? I could kill you right now. How dare you threaten me—“
“The gods have you on a watch. You kill one more Atlantean—remember the man from F-Inn?—and you’re terminated. Just like that.” His voice wasn’t his own. His eyes weren’t his own. His very demeanor wasn’t his own.
Ice slid down her spine, raising the hair at the back of her neck. Ceto narrowed her eyes on him, but something pushed her to take a step away from him. Autrux rose to his feet, and all it took was for her to blink.
A second. Just one second.
Austrux was no longer standing in front of her. No, whatever it was that stood in his place was something so much worse.
The thing was hulking, red, and pure evil. She could feel it pouring off of him in waves, beating against her senses and pushing her back. That icy feeling had been terror, she realized through her growing fear. It didn’t just slide down her back this time—but consumed her whole body until she was shaking.
Ceto had never been so petrified in her life.
It stood there, staring at her with eyes that were no longer blue and perfect. There were no white to his eyes, only pure, deadly black. The longer she stared, the more she saw. He didn’t speak a word to her, only stood there, his presence enough to make her shake with terror.
Her death. She could easily see her death in his eyes.
And wasn’t that enough to make you want to piss yourself?
“What are you?” she whispered, taking another step back. Her back collided with the counter, head pressed against the cupboard that was on top of it.
“An ally,” it said. Oh god. It’s voice. It was like nails on a blackboard—but deeper and more resonating.
“You want Ambrose gone.” It wasn’t asked as a question, but she nodded her head, mind slowly revolving around one thing. She was going to die. This thing in front of her was going to kill her. It had the look, the eyes, the face. The body. No longer was the thing a sex god—no, it was a killing machine. She had never encountered anything like it in her life.
There was no doubt in her mind that it could kill her with just a breath. No doubt in her mind that it would do so if she didn’t listen to it.
“Well,” he said, surging forward and grabbing her by the neck. She would have screamed, had his hand not cut off her airways. She clawed at his hand, feet kicking out. “I want something that Mari has.”
“Wh—atever. You want. Let me—“ He snarled, pulling her body away from the wall with one hand, then slammed her body into the cupboard behind her. The scream ripped from her air-deprived throat like a terrible wheeze as pain exploded behind her head.
“Shut the fuck up and wait till I’m done!” It slammed her against the boards again. Ceto was throbbing with too much pain to even think of speaking.
It tightened its fist around her throat. Her stomach heaved, but with no way to exit, it boiled like acid in her stomach. She was really going to die.
“We are going to do what I say. When I say. Don’t listen to me, and I’ll make sure you regret ever breathing. This is how it’s going to go, alright?”
She nodded as best she could, world beginning to spin. Ceto could barely hear what the thing was saying to her.
“Once I get what I want, Ambrose is all yours.”
Ceto gave one last attempt at clawing it, vision turning black at the edges. It loosened its grip slightly and she gasped, air filling her lungs in a rush.
“What…” She coughed, blinking as the word began to come back. “What do you want?”
It smiled for the first time, revealing sharp, yellow teeth. The bile rose quicker than it had last time. This couldn’t be happening—not really. It was impossible for something so evil to exist—surely the gods would have done something about it by now. Would have killed it. Or something.
“Poor little Ceto,” it growled, caressing her cheek with its thumb, squeezing her neck. “The reason your gods can’t do anything about me is simple. I’m not one of theirs—the Atlanteans had it all wrong when they thought they were the only pantheon.”
It paused, letting that terrifying information sink into her brain.
“Now, what I want?”
Ceto’s eyes flipped to his as horror began to set in.
“Deimos. She has him, and I want him.”
Ambrose growled and pulled her closer. A shudder ran down her back as the beginning of desire flashed through her body.
They’d had the longest talk in the history of talks—and it had been the best time of her life. She learned about Ambrose, his family, his past. His brother, his friends. They had shared each others’ souls. And even though her body was aching and nearly drained of all sensation, he somehow managed to rouse a fire deep inside of her every time he decided he wanted her—which was every fifteen minutes.
His arms wrapped around her waist, his thick length pressing against her stomach. She felt the faint tingle in her legs, and knew that in a matter of seconds, Ambrose would be inside of her—
“Open these fucking curtains!”
The shouting, and the commotion, barely registered in her mind. Her hands wrapped around his neck as their kiss turned heated, passionate—
“Ambrose, I know you’re in there! Open the damn door before this bastard kills me!”
Her lover jerked back from her, a growl rumbling from his chest. Mari gasped and reached for him, disappointed. “Just ignore them,” she whispered, taking his hand and not letting him go.
The look he gave her told her that he wanted just that, but he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m on thin ice. I can’t just—“
“Ambrose!”
Mari glowered, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest—
Gold flickered in her peripheral vision.
Her gaze snapped to her tail—no way. No freaking way, she thought, grabbing at her tail as joy crashed through her. “Ambrose!” she exclaimed, gathering the length of her tail and hugging it to her chest like it was a teddy bear. “My tail! It came back!”
He chuckled as he grabbed hold of a drawing string. “I was wondering when you would notice.”
She gasped then narrowed her eyes on him. “You knew?”
Ambrose looked at her over his shoulder. “Obviously.”
“You didn’t say anything?”
He shrugged. “Why would I? If I had said something, you wouldn’t have been focused on what we were doing…Plus,” he added, pulling the string. “Whenever I thought to mention it, I wanted you. So I took you. Simple enough?”
She would have been pissed beyond belief, but several factors held her silent.
First off, the drapes were open.
Standing outside of them was a whole legion of soldiers. All of them were panting, red in the face, and bloody. Mari sat up quickly, hand flying to her mouth.
“What the hell—“ Ambrose was just speaking her thoughts when Deimos charged into the room. The soldiers flew away from him like a stack of dominos on steroids and there he was. Face red
, furious, arms bulging, fist clenched around daggers, and eyes flashing red and white.
“You,” he roared, shooting forward. Ambrose tried to block him as he came at Mari with ungodly speed, but Deimos knocked him away.
Ambrose cursed, slamming into one of the pillars. Mari quickly got to her feet, holding up her hands as he came to her—not in a defensive gesture, but as a soothing one.
“Left me!” His grating shout echoed throughout the temple. Mari winced guiltily, putting her hands on his shoulders when he got close enough for her to touch him. She didn’t make a move toward him, simply waiting for him while feeling like the worst mother in the world.
“No I didn’t,” she said calmly. Mari sensed Ambrose come up behind her and felt his worry wrap around her in a cold embrace, but she ignored him. Deimos was literally shaking—and not with fury. Well, not just with fury—but terror. She saw the look in his eyes, saw the way he was desperately staring into her own eyes, as if needing reassurance.
“Did. With him.” His face contorted as he struggled to talk, but she understood well enough. Mari ran her hands down his shoulders, nodding.
“I was. Deimos, why are you shaking?” she asked, changing the subject. It couldn’t be because she had sneaked away from him. Deimos would have been enraged, not scared shitless.
“Felt something—different.” His voice lowered as his eyebrows did. He cast a dark glance at Ambrose before settling them back on her. “Evil.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about? Deimos, you aren’t evil—“
“Yes he is,” Ambrose muttered.
“Shut it,” she snapped, wracking him with her tail. Mari focused on Deimos, who couldn’t seem to think of what to say. As the silence stretched on, the soldiers, or guards, or whatever the hell they were, moved out of the room—and with good cause. Deimos was still new to her, and very unpredictable.
“Can’t…Mari. Danger.”
She nodded, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “We knew Ceto is still out there. We’ll take care of her. Really, you don’t need to worry—“