by Helen Scott
Alec’s fist shot out and made contact with Robbie’s nose before the man had a chance to react. He followed up by sweeping his leg out, landing a kick to one of Robbie’s knees, knocking him to the ground, then finished with two swift kicks to his side. Alec bent over and squatted, bringing himself nose to nose with Robbie, grabbing him by the chin as he pushed a knee onto one of the idiot’s arms.
“Think those punches work? Is that what you use on women?”
“What are you talking about, you psycho?” Blood was trailing from Robbie’s nose down the side of his face.
“Ellie.” The vengeance Alec put into her name was caustic, and the color drained from Robbie’s face.
“I never meant to hurt her. She just made me crazy, you know?” As he sputtered his defense, the blood from his nose was mixing with his saliva, causing pink bubbles to form at the corners of his mouth. Alec was disgusted.
“No. I don’t.” Alec let his hatred seep into every word. “You could never deserve her.”
Hal had the silent friend in a headlock and was waiting to see what Alec did before he released the hold.
Alec stood and stepped out of reach of Robbie, who stood, looking sheepish. He was clearly struggling with what to say next.
“I was a different person back then. I know I did wrong.” Robbie’s head came up, and there was a different light behind his eyes. “But I ain’t about to let you beat the shit out of me neither.”
Before Alec could respond, Robbie came flying at him, raining punches on him and trying to pull the same move Alec had used on him. The trouble was, Alec had hundreds of years of fighting experience; he simply moved out of the way, and the force Robbie put behind the kick meant he would be off-balance when it didn’t connect.
Alec let two swift jabs fly into his ribs before hitting him with a right hook. He pulled his arm back to strike again and felt Hal’s presence. Alec knew he had put too much force behind his earlier jabs, but the urge to strike again was too strong.
“I believe you’ve made your point, brother.” Hal’s hand rested on Alec’s shoulder, ready to take action if he needed to.
“You have, you have!” Robbie gasped, clutching his ribs with one hand and his face with the other.
Alec’s hook had most likely broken Robbie’s cheek and displaced his nose even further, judging by the blood pouring from it. All he wanted was to beat him to a bloody pulp. The rage he felt was white-hot, and he could barely control it. The thought that stopped him was making it to Ellie. He knew if he let go and released his rage on this boy, then he would go back in the cage for accidentally murdering this fool, and he would never see her.
“Alec…” Hal voiced his warning softly as Alec trembled with anger and his struggle to control it.
Alec seethed. “If I ever hear about your harming a woman again, I will come back here and finish this. No one will be able to stop me.” His voice reverberated around them as he put the power of the siren into it. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” A strange calm had fallen over Robbie. “I’ll never harm a woman again.”
“Good. Now go to the hospital.”
Hal turned the silent friend he had been holding the whole time around and softly sang to him, ensuring neither of them would be able to accurately describe them to the police.
The two stumbled off in search of a hospital.
“I’m proud of you, brother. You kept your control, even when I could feel it leaving you.”
“Thanks.” Alec was breathing hard from keeping his anger in check. “Let’s get another drink, and then you can talk to Donna some more.”
“Sounds good.” Hal threw his arm around Alec’s shoulder as they went back into the bar, which earned them some nervous glances from the other male patrons. The ladies were more than happy to see them, and soon enough, Hal slipped out with Donna, leaving Alec to bid Nora and Eileen good night.
Chapter 22
Circe braided and unbraided her auburn hair. She had only been on Mount Olympus for a few months, and she was already losing her mind. The food was tasteless, and the cage they had put her in was elegant but still a cage. She supposed she should be happy she was still alive. Zeus’s anger had been overwhelming when she first got here, but ever since the first week, she had been left utterly alone. Sure, her meals were delivered by someone, but they wore a robe that hid their face from her and never made a sound.
She stared at the creamy marble columns that formed the bars of her jail. Hades would come for her. She knew he would. He had to. Undoing the braid in her hair, Circe combed her fingers through the long locks and paced around the small space. She had lived for centuries and had traveled the world. Now she was stuck here. She laughed when she thought of how the tables had turned. She was stuck on Mount Olympus, when the only place she wanted to be was in the underworld with Hades. The irony of the situation was not lost on her.
A woman’s laughter drifted down the hall, making Circe’s blood boil. She would have her revenge eventually. The laughter was drawing near. Circe stopped pacing and braced herself for whatever fresh hell the gods of Olympus wanted to unleash on her. The smell of freshly fallen rain hit her first. When she realized whom the scent belonged to, her stomach dropped.
“Circe, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Persephone’s voice was rich and melodic.
“My lady, Persephone.” Circe dropped a curtsy out of habit, immediately berating herself for showing deference to the woman she was trying to replace. When she rose out of the curtsy, she stood tall and straight, putting on the regal bearing she knew she could carry.
“How fair you in here?” Persephone’s sky-blue eyes raked over Circe as though evaluating her.
“I am well, thank you.” She refused to look weak in front of one of her enemies.
“Good. Hades is here.” Circe schooled her face not to betray her hope of freedom. “He is currently speaking with Zeus about your punishment. I believe the Furies were mentioned, but it is not decided yet.”
Persephone turned and looked down the hallway, her strawberry-blond hair shining in the light. Circe took a moment to evaluate the current queen of the underworld and found her wanting. Persephone was sweet and supple, not the right woman for Hades at all. She glowed with life; the sunlight seemed to be drawn to her skin. The flowers in her hair made Circe want to rip them out. She would be twice the queen, twice the lover, twice the wife that Persephone had ever been.
“There you are, my love! I was beginning to wonder if Zeus had lured you into a wrestling match again.” Persephone’s face lit up with the joy of her love.
When Hades reached her, she went up on her toes and kissed him. It was no small peck either. Circe’s anger flooded anew within her. When Hades deepened the kiss, her anger turned ice-cold. Finally they broke apart, and Hades smiled down at his wife, running a knuckle down the side of her face before turning to Circe.
“Circe.” Hades inclined his head.
Standing next to Persephone, the differences between them were clear. Hades’s skin was as pale as moonlight, and the effect was only exaggerated by the blue-black hair that hung down to his shoulders and the matching goatee. His dark blue eyes searched hers, and she was captured by them. Her heart began to race. He would get her out of here, just as she had thought. He was studying her still, which unsettled her. Something was wrong.
“Persephone knows of our tryst.”
“Oh?” Circe glanced at the woman who held Hades’s hand. They had slept together when Persephone was up on Mount Olympus and Circe had sought his help in stealing Hecate’s torches.
“I have forgiven my husband for his lapse in judgment while I was away with my mother. Our separation is hard on both of us. No one could ever replace me though, as I know him better than anyone ever could. We are one, he and I. Know that while you might still believe he is here to help you escape, he is not.” Persephone leaned into Hades while she spoke.
“It was one night, Circe. I never intende
d to leave Persephone, and I would never even think about having her killed or dethroning her as my queen. She is my everything. You were just a distraction while she was away, a distraction I deeply regret. I love—”
Hades kept talking, but the ringing in Circe’s ears had overtaken everything. She was overwhelmed by a sinking sensation. She couldn’t believe it had happened again. She had been tossed aside by the one man who she had bared her heart to, who had seemed as lonely as she was.
“Circe, why did you go to Hades that night?” Persephone’s voice cut through the fog like a knife.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t be there. I thought he would be more open to helping me if you weren’t around, and boy, was I right. He helped me a few times, didn’t you, big man.” Circe winked at Hades. She refused to play ashamed and submissive.
“What did you want his help with?”
“He didn’t tell you?” Circe glanced between the two of them. “Bad boy, Hades.” She tut-tutted at him. “He told me where Hecate’s house was and where she kept her torches. Oh, not to mention the whole ‘allowing me out of the underworld unscathed’ thing.”
“Had you requested help from him before?” Persephone asked as Hades stood like a statue.
“No.”
“Anyone else?”
“I’ve been alive for centuries, of course I’ve asked people for help before.”
“I mean, with this specific matter.” Persephone’s delicate brows drew together, as though she couldn’t imagine what would drive Circe to this.
“Maybe, I don’t remember. Why do you care anyway?” Circe crossed her arms over her chest.
“Did you tell Hades your plan to destroy the gods’ descendants?” Persephone ignored Circe’s question.
“Yes. He said it was a good plan, that it would hit them where it hurt.”
“Had you spoken to anyone else of this plan?”
“Yes. I initially asked Hecate for help. But she told me I was crazy and to let it go.”
“You should have listened. You scared her with the ferocity of your anger.” Hades’s deep baritone voice rumbled through her as she felt more disconcerted than ever.
“You weren’t there.” Circe sneered at him.
“No, I wasn’t, but Hecate did come to me and tell me of the event after the fact. At which point I recommended we both go to Zeus and speak with him about it. Neither of us liked the idea of someone threatening innocents and especially not the gods’ children.”
“I would hardly call them innocent or children, for that matter! They have created more unrest and destruction in the world than anything else. How is that innocent?”
“They have contributed more than you know. Did you ever stop to talk to any of them before setting your creatures out to kill them?” Hades’s voice was full of fury. “Some of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren were killed because of your actions!”
Persephone turned to her husband, her eyes wet with tears, and wrapped her arms around him.
“Shh, my love. We can mourn our dead with the rest of the family later.”
Hades’s arms circled tightly around his wife as his gaze narrowed on Circe.
“Melinoe and Zagreus both lost children and grandchildren to your beasts. Children that had done nothing more than enjoy the world they lived in.”
“You encouraged me!” Circe screamed, finally losing her temper. “You told me to research the cities that had the most connections to Mount Olympus. You told me…”
What had he told her really? Whenever she had suggested an idea, he had agreed with it and encouraged her, but that was it. The memory of their night together played behind her eyes, and seeing it now, she could easily see Hades was just mirroring her ideas, her movements, everything. She had trusted him so easily. Circe glanced at her wrist and felt nauseated by the symbol that resided there. She had burned it into her skin after she had left Hades, rejoicing in the fact that she had finally found someone who understood her. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.
“I did, and I will carry that with me forever.” Hades’s voice broke through her wall of sorrow. “The one thing you are missing from all this was I did it under Zeus’s orders. When Hecate and I spoke with him, he wanted to kill you outright, but you had done nothing wrong, which wouldn’t have mattered when he was at the height of his power. Since that isn’t the case, he tends to be more reasonable. He doesn’t want to lose his throne to me—or worse—to Poseidon.”
Hades sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while the other stayed around Persephone, who continued to cling to him.
“Under Zeus’s orders I encouraged you, told you what a good plan it was, even though I dreaded the possible outcome. I was surprised by how easily you reached my quarters and by how sane you sounded. I let you seduce me, which was wrong. I was lonely, and I knew it would confirm my intentions for you and you would trust me. Even worse, I knew from the way you spoke we would have trouble containing you after you had the torches. I honestly didn’t expect you to ask for help getting to them, but I knew you wanted an ally in your plan, so I offered myself. But now, as you can see, it was not a true offer. I never intended to honor any of what we discussed. It was simply a ploy for you to entrap yourself.”
“You bastard.” Circe’s words dripped with venom. “Out of everyone who had betrayed me over my long life, you are the worst.” She stopped speaking as tears threatened to choke her.
Hades gently released Persephone, and suddenly his ebony scepter appeared. Persephone stood grimly by her husband’s side as he cracked the end of the scepter onto the ground. Shadows seemed to appear and encircle Hades, clinging to his robes and skin, creating a darkness around him that was the opposite of Persephone’s light.
“Circe, you have been sentenced by Zeus to one century of punishment by the Furies, followed by an eternity of gaining the one thing you most desire only to lose it again and again. Out of respect for your long life and the help you have offered the gods on previous occasions, you have been granted one month to say any good-byes you need to and arrange for your funeral, should you want one.”
“If you do not present yourself to me in the underworld by the end of that month, then Cerberus will be released to hunt you down and drag you to the underworld using as much force as necessary. Please do not think you can get away with avoiding your punishment like Sisyphus; after all, he is still rolling his boulder up the hill. Should you kill any more descendants during your time back in the mortal realm, your punishment will be increased exponentially for every life lost, and that means Zeus would get involved personally. Charon will bring you to me immediately upon your presenting yourself at the river Styx. Any questions?”
“No.” Circe breathed.
Hades hit the ground with the end of his scepter again, and it disappeared.
“One month, Circe, that’s all you have. Make good use of it.” Hades walked out with Persephone.
Before she could second-guess her decision, Circe used the last remaining vestiges of power she had to burn the symbol of Hades from her skin. Now it was a jagged scar just like any other, and she would be reduced to using poisons and weak potions. The one task she set for herself was to destroy the woman who threw her whole plan off course. She didn’t care about her funeral or any of that drivel, but she would destroy that little witch. That would be her send-off, her final party before she met the Furies.
As the columns in front of her lowered into the ground, Circe walked out and found a guard waiting for her. Once she was on the mortal plane, she would be able to track her prey and jump where she needed, but getting there could be tricky. She was glad they provided someone to help her exit Mount Olympus, as—like the underworld—you couldn’t get in or out without someone who lived there.
“Where to?” he asked, barely looking at her.
“Scotland.” She smiled up at him as he placed a hand on her shoulder, and they jumped out.
Ellie had never been more thankful for being
able to avoid public transit than she was today. Normally, she rejoiced in it since it meant she didn’t have to have a car payment, but today, after driving the rental car for three hours, she was glad for the solitude. She had almost sung herself hoarse by the time she arrived on the Isle of Skye.
The grass was beginning to turn green, and the wildflowers were starting to bloom. Everything about it said spring was finally here. She had booked herself a room at the oldest inn on the island. It wasn’t the cheapest, but Granddad had always loved to stay there when they visited as a family.
He had been so fascinated with the history of the MacLeod clan that Ellie felt she should honor it with where she spread their ashes. She couldn’t spread them at Dunvegan Castle; it was a part of history, after all—not to mention the tourists who frequented the castle. So she had packed her hiking boots and was going to take Granddad on his favorite walk, up to Waternish Point.
He had never been a fan of large crowds or tourist attractions, so the solitary, solar-powered lighthouse that stood at the tip of Waternish Point was one of his favorites. Ellie decided to stop into the castle, simply because she hadn’t seen it since she was a child. It was morbid, she knew, but she felt like she should take her grandparents with her to their ancestral home. So she packed the urns in her backpack, and off she went.
There were a few tourists around, snapping pictures of everything they could see, but Ellie ignored them. Her family was at the forefront of her mind right now, and all she could do was absorb the fact that some of her ancestors walked these very halls and pledged their loyalty to the clan chief here.
Their ghosts seemed to be surrounding her today. She had never felt more at home and yet had never felt more alone either. The mountains and moors called to her, stirred something within her blood. She briefly wondered if this was how Alec felt about the ocean before banishing thoughts of him again. This time was for her family, not to wallow in self-pity.
Meandering through the grand castle, Ellie took in the sumptuous fabrics and amazing oil paintings in gilded frames from times long since passed. Her nose took in the scent of the old fabric and stone combined with the citrus scent of what was most likely a new cleaning product. The rich crimson velvet seats were encased by wood so covered with the patina of age that the original color was only hinted at.