by Jasmine Walt
Before he reached her, another sword sliced between the two of them. Loren’s opponent made a comical backpedaling motion with his feet while windmilling his arms until he came to a stop.
“Hello, Lolo.” Leonidas Baros turned. His sword arced from the man’s chest toward Loren, ending its point at the tip of her nose.
Loren looked from his sword’s point and then to his face. A seductive smile spread across her features, but she didn’t lower her sword. “Hey, Lenny.”
While I continued to fight for my life against two massive men who seemed to enjoy my kicks and punches a little too much, Loren and Baros grinned like schoolkids at each other.
“Loren!” I called out.
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” She stepped back and lifted her sword. It clanged loudly with Baros’s. “Are these your men?”
“They are.” With a flick of his wrist, Baros retracted his sword and brought it down against Loren’s. But Loren went with the movement, warding off his strike with a circling motion that placed her sword on top of his.
“Very good.” Baros’s eyes twinkled as he admired the move.
“I learned from the best.” Loren pulled her lower lip into her mouth. “You know, if you wanted to see me, you could’ve just called and asked me to come over.”
“I didn’t come for you,” Baros said. “I came for your friend.”
Said friend—that was me—now had three opponents she was facing off against while those two continued to bat eyelashes and rub their swords together.
“The boss wants to see Dr. Rivers,” Baros said. “But I’m happy to see you again, Lolo.”
“You are?” Loren asked.
“Yeah.”
“Loren!” I called.
“What?” She turned to me, annoyed. “Oh, right.” She turned back to Baros. “Can you call off your goons? They’re roughing up my friend.”
Baros whistled, and then growled, “Gladiators.”
The men immediately dropped their arms. I didn’t. I got in one last punch to the guy who’d grabbed me and one last kick to the third guy who’d joined the fray. Both men went to their knees.
“Whoa.” Loren blew out a low breath. “That was kind of hot.”
I knew she didn’t mean my fighting skills. Mainly because she was still making goo-goo eyes at Baros. I marched up to the two of them, glaring at Loren, who shrugged with an insincere apology.
“You’ve been invited to a party,” Baros said to me without giving me an ounce of his attention. His eyes were on Loren.
“Whose party?” I demanded.
“The Olympians.”
11
We stepped out of the room and into the elevator. The gladiators limped or cracked muscles and tendons that had met my fists or feet. I ran my fingers through my unmussed hair and straightened my blouse. When the elevator doors closed us in, Baros turned a key and pushed a button for the terrace instead of the ground floor.
“We’re not going to Eleusis?” I asked.
“No,” Baros answered.
“But that’s historically where the rites have been held,” I argued.
Baros turned and looked at me. His grin managed to be amused and condescending at the same time. “If I were trying to keep a secret, would I tell everyone, ‘Hey, the answer is located here in this place?’”
I narrowed my eyes at the ass. Loren giggled at his mockery. I turned my glare on my traitorous friend.
“What?” she mouthed at me.
“It’s a battle tactic to mislead the enemy,” Baros said. “When the farce is known to all, you hide the truth in plain sight.”
We were standing in an elevator going up and up and up. There wasn’t much to see. I guessed I had to wait until the doors were open to see the plain sights he spoke about.
“So . . .” I decided to change the subject while we continued our ascent. “Baros, you had your soul taken?”
“I gave my soul freely,” he said. “That’s what separates me from a demon. A man, god, or Immortal who forcibly takes something that is not freely offered makes a slave out of a soul.” He looked pointedly at me when he said the term Immortal, as though just the word burned his tongue. “You can tell a demon by the red rim around their eyes.”
Now that he mentioned it, every demon I’d seen before had had the red rim around their eyes. They also weren’t as vocal as Baros and his three gladiator goons. They’d been mindless fighting machines.
“When their eyes are red,” Baros continued, “it means their soul was ripped from them.”
“Without your soul, you still have free will?” I asked.
“I make my own choices. It’s like a marriage. You promise to love, honor, and obey your spouse. You do everything with your spouse in mind, taking their welfare into account. But you can act independently. It’s the same with a god. Death, in that case, just takes a lot longer.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up,” Loren said. “Are you saying you’re married?”
“I was,” Baros replied.
Loren’s eyes narrowed and her brow pinched. I was a bit surprised she was angry, considering she held no conviction to monogamy. But it was good to know there were lines, like marriage, that she didn’t believe in crossing.
“My wife Gorgo died over two thousand years ago in Sparta.” Baros’s face looked solemn.
That appeased Loren, but it rallied my curiosity.
“Sparta?” I asked. “I thought you were Roman, a gladiator?”
Baros’s lip curled in disgust. “I am a proud Spartan. Son of King Anaxandridas. Trained since childhood in the art of combat of the battlefield and the political arena. I am not a sport fighter.”
The three bruised gladiators in the back of the elevator bristled, but none spoke against him.
“Wait a minute,” Loren said, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Leonidas? Spartan? OMG, you’re the dude from 300. Lena Headey, eat your heart out.”
“That film was wholly inaccurate,” Baros growled. “We didn’t fight bare-chested; we wore armor. And that Persian pissant, Xerxes, wasn’t nine feet tall. He was shorter than my son, and he never went to the front line of the battle.”
“That’s too bad,” Loren said. “About the armor.”
“Didn’t you die in the battle of Thermopylae?” I asked.
“That was my intent,” Baros said. “But the gods had more use of me.”
“And so you gave them your soul?” Loren asked.
Baros nodded down at her.
“Why did you do it?” I asked. “Why did you give up your soul?”
He turned, taking his googly eyes off Loren for a moment to focus on me. “From what I understand of you, Dr. Rivers, you don’t spend your immortality aiming to acquire power and dominion like others of your kind. You spend it chasing after the past. Why do you do so?”
“Because all stories deserve to be told,” I answered automatically.
“My story wasn’t finished. And so, when I got my invitation from the gods as I lay bleeding on the battlefield, I accepted. I proved myself worthy, and I was chosen.”
“How did you prove—”
But before I could finish my question, the elevator came to a clanging stop and the doors opened. The gladiators stepped to the front and preceded us out, followed by Baros.
Loren tugged at my shirt. “Nia, did you hear that? I bagged a king.”
“Good for you, sweetie.”
“May I have that back now?” Baros stopped us as we came out of the elevator. His thick finger pointed at my chest.
I looked down and realized he indicated the ancient ring I wore on a chain around my neck. I gave it up grudgingly.
“By the way,” I said. “Since you recovered the Nazi loot, did you find the Ninnion Tablet?”
“The what?” Baros asked.
“It’s one of the artifacts that depicts the Eleusinian Mysteries and the Rites of Demeter.”
He chuckled. “I have not heard of such a thing. It must be some knickknack ma
de by a human. There are many symbols and idols to the gods. We can’t keep track of them all. This belonged to me before the earth swallowed it.” He held the ring up between us. “A human dug it up and then put it in a museum. Then power-mad humans stole it before I could reclaim it. Through all that time, it never stopped being mine.” He palmed the ring and turned on his heel.
“Was that his wedding ring?” Loren whispered as he walked in front of us.
I gave a fairly certain shake of my head. While the exchange of rings could be traced back to ancient Egypt and was a custom in ancient Greece, warriors didn’t often have use of the custom. But most of my certainty came from the inscription on the ring. The word justice written in an ancient script that predated the Spartans didn’t sound particularly romantic to me.
We walked up a narrow stairwell that opened out into the sunshine. I stepped out onto the terrace. For a moment, the sun blinded me as it reflected off the white temples that dotted the skyline.
This terrace was unreal. It looked on the outside like a mini Parthenon with columns stretching high. If I thought the view from my room was amazing, the view from up high was spectacular.
I blinked as Baros beckoned me forward.
We were stopped at velvet ropes by a man with a sword and a shield. On the shield was a crest of wheat surrounding a scepter. I squinted at it as a memory tried to shake loose in my head.
“She can’t enter.” The guard pointed his sword at Loren. “She’s not Chosen.”
“She has accepted the invitation,” Baros said. “She is an initiate.”
The other man lowered the sword with reluctance. His eyes were trained on me in a look of disgust. Many of the Chosens’ eyes were focused on me, their hands hovering over weapons at their sides. I supposed I’d been here before. But I had no idea what I’d done to piss them all off.
“Hey, Baros,” I said as we crossed the ropes. “Other than Budapest, is this the first time we’ve met?”
“Yes,” he said. “You are a favorite of the goddess Demeter. I am not her devoted.”
“Oh,” I said, keeping step with his wide stride while also making sure to steer clear of the pupil-less eyes that threw daggers at me from all sides. “Did I piss her off, because a lot of these Chosen don’t seem very welcoming.”
“Most of the Chosen are Greeks. Greeks do not have a good history with the likes of you.”
“The likes of me?”
“Persians.” He spat the word.
“I’m not Persian.”
“Immortals, then. Your brother Dio has never ceased in his hunger to occupy our homeland.”
Dio was the word for the number two in Greek. “You mean Bet?”
“He is the one who guided Xerxes during my time. And then again led the sultans on their five-hundred-year occupation of my country. Even today, we are still at war over Crete.”
Baros was right. Bet had a constant fixation on Greece and overpowering it. I had always assumed it was part of a larger plan, but now I wondered. What, who, exactly was he after?
I didn’t have time to follow that line of thinking. As though he stepped out of thin air, Golden Rod from the orgy appeared and made his way toward us. Thankfully, he was clothed this time.
He wore an open shirt that showed off his toned chest. His golden hair framed his head like a crown, and his stride made me think he walked on air, like a sun god. I had to admit he made my mouth water. I swallowed quickly before he reached me, but he smirked like he knew the effect he had. Looking around, I realized it wasn’t just me. Every pupil-less eye was on him. But he made a beeline straight for me.
“I knew you’d come find me.” He reached for my hand and kissed it.
I felt tiny pinpricks of light zipping up my arm like sparkles during an American celebration of liberation. When his lips left my skin, it was replaced by a gush of his breath. The small puff of air blew at the embers left by the sparks. Still bending over my wrist, he tilted his head up and looked at me. His fiery eyes, along with the smoldering grin, set my skin aflame. I yanked my hand away.
“Leave her alone, Zuzu. She’s here for me, not you.”
Cradling my hand against my chest, I raised my gaze and saw a woman. She moved as if she floated. Her hair was the color of wheat. Her golden bright eyes were narrowed on me. She put her hands on her hips as she came to stand before me. Her lovely face did not look pleased.
“You bitch,” she said.
“Pardon?” I asked, affronted.
“Zuzu said he saw you in Budapest. Psi said he saw you at sea. But I’m the last to know?”
“Um . . .?”
“I told you, Demi,” Golden Rod, or Zuzu, said. “She doesn’t remember.”
“Nonsense,” Demi countered. “Of course she remembers her best friend.”
“Pardon?” Loren said, bristling at my side.
Demi ignored Loren and focused on me. “Don’t you, darling? Tisa, it’s me, Demeter.”
12
Demi? Demeter.
Zuzu? Zeus.
Psi? In the waters? The octopus that had winked at me. Had that been the Greek god of the oceans, Poseidon?
As if he heard me call his name, a tall drink of water approached us. His skin was deep brown. He had long, silky dreadlocks that floated around his shoulders as though a perpetual fan blew inches in front of his face. But the day was sunny and windless. His grin was cruel, promising wickedness. But it was his eyes that were most startling of all. They were as blue as the waves, and the color didn’t stand still. It ebbed and flowed like the tide. When he spoke, his voice crashed into me like a tidal wave.
“Hello again, Tisa.”
Poseidon didn’t make a move to touch me, and I was thankful. Power radiated off him, as it did Demeter and Zeus. These were old beings. They didn’t have an effect on me like my kind did. I didn’t feel weak in their presence. I felt buoyed, lifted. But the feeling was new and scary for me, and I shied away from it.
Behind me, I felt something scorch my forearm. Zeus trailed a finger from my elbow to my palm. I snatched my hand away. He grinned unapologetically, like a misbehaving toddler who’d snuck his hand into the candy jar.
“She doesn’t remember us, Psi,” Demeter said, looking distressed.
“After all we shared . . .” Zeus tsked.
“Yeah?” Poseidon said to his brother. “You mean all the times she kicked your ass up to the sky?”
Zeus turned to glare at the other man, thunderbolts flashing in his eyes. “Thanks a lot, gutter-snipe.”
Poseidon made a fist, and water splashed down on Zeus’s head. Zeus glared and shook off the liquid like a dog would. The water flung from his body. He stepped forward without a drop on his person and not a golden hair out of place.
“I just did you a favor, baby brother.” Poseidon grinned. “Now I won’t have to rescue your balls from an Immortal’s grip. Again.”
Poseidon turned and winked at me. I offered him a smile of thanks. Then I turned my attention back to Demeter, who still studied me pensively.
“You told me you might forget,” she said. “But I didn’t believe you. You truly don’t remember me?”
“Um . . . well . . .”
Before I could finish my hedging, she blinked and her face brightened. “This can actually work to my benefit. Any time we’ve squabbled, you’ve forgotten. Like any arguments over a certain pharaoh?”
“Who?”
“Exactly.” Demeter grinned, spreading her hands wide. “It’s like we’re starting over. Demi and Tisa, the sequel.”
“Um, hi.” Loren stepped in front of us. “Loren Van Alst, current best friend, and the friend who knows better than to go after the same man as my bestie.”
Loren turned to me for approval. I didn’t mention that she’d made a pass at both my ex-boyfriend and the guy I was currently dating. I wasn’t focused on my current friend. My gaze was fixed on my old friend, Demeter.
“Oh, look.” Demeter folded her hands under her chin
and grinned at Loren. “You’ve got a new pet. She’s adorable.”
I grabbed Loren’s wrist before her hand could delve into her bag for her cane. “Behave,” I whispered. “We’re guests.”
“Let her call me a pet again,” Loren said through gritted teeth.
A brown-skinned woman with cropped hair and wearing a business suit stepped into the area from the elevator. She had a phone to her ear and was followed by a group of men and women with handhelds pressed to the sides of their faces. But it was clear that she was the epicenter of the group. Like Poseidon, her features were startling to behold.
“Tia,” Demeter shouted. “Look who it is.”
Tia came up to the group and stopped in front of me. Though she was a few inches shorter than I was, she managed to look down her nose at me. It took a second for recognition to dawn on her stern features.
“Oh. Tisa. Nice to see you again, I suppose. What’s it been? About a thousand years or so?”
Her tone was clipped. Not in a mean-girl way. More in an inattentive, distracted way. Her gaze went from my face to her phone. It lingered far longer on her handheld than it did on me.
“Tia?” I said. “Do you mean . . . Are you the goddess Hestia?”
Tia tore her gaze away from her handheld and squinted her crystal blue eyes at me. “Of course I am. Have you lost your faculties in the last millennium? I hear that can happen to your kind. I’m quite certain your brother Dio is quite out of his mind. He’s still causing trouble in the Aegean Sea, over some island or other this time.”
I supposed she was talking about Turkey and Greece’s continual dispute over Crete. I hadn’t thought about it before, but it was very likely that Bet was behind it.
“Isn’t that where you and Dio met, Demi?” Zeus asked. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Perhaps that’s why he wants the island? So he can destroy it? I love a good love story, don’t you? Especially when it ends in bloodshed.”
Zeus grinned at me. I looked from him to Demeter.
Demeter rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “Just a little lovers’ spat. If he apologizes, I’ll let him have it.”