“The God of Chaos and the human’s God are brothers of a sort. But only someone of our world would know the symbols are more than decoration.” Bennett studied the symbols with a predatory intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. Seeing him like this, there was no doubt that he had done his fair share to protect his people no matter what he said. Jaxon may be the brains, but Bennett was the fierce leader and warrior that his people followed without question.
“To put both the cross and the sun on their home base is unusual. They either have an odd sense of humor, or they are honoring both gods outright,” Bennett mused. “There is more here than is seen at first glance. Light is, at its very basis, a frequency that can be manipulated. Look deeper and tell me what you see.”
I reached down deep to that ball of light at my center and teased out a tiny tendril of power. Breath rushed from my lungs as a whole other world slowly revealed itself. A skyscraper—lit up like a neon Christmas tree—sat on top of the church. Glowing walkways branched off in all directions. I turned in a circle to see an entire neon city sitting atop the human town we had traveled through to get here.
“I had heard of the City of Light, but never thought to see it for myself. They are supposedly the most technologically advanced of all Houses,” Grayson whispered in awe. “But how do we get in?”
“That is where I can help,” a voice rasped in English with a heavy Italian accent from the dark archway of the church. The guides had their swords out ready to attack if needed. A man who could have passed for Robert De Niro’s brother stepped into the lantern light. His white robes covered him from neck to toe, but his muscular frame was still evident. Gray shoulder-length hair framed his face. My powers clamored inside me, torn between wanting to reach out to greet him, or to strike him down. I smoothed my hand over the rolling ball of light at my center and smiled as it calmed enough for me to stay in control.
Faded brown eyes met mine not missing a thing. “My name is Giovanni Acesius,” the man said. “Welcome to the House of Light, granddaughter.”
18
Grayson and I followed the old man silently. There were so many questions spinning around in my head I was surprised I was able to walk at all. Why was my grandfather welcoming us to his House when we were enemies? Was this a trap? Bennett hadn’t seemed surprised by any of this and spoke quietly to the guides near the entrance of the church. What did he know and why hadn’t he told me?
It was like tugging at a giant ball of yarn: every time I unraveled one secret, there was another one right behind it.
Empty rows of pews stretched out on either side of us. Murals depicting battling angels and demons lined every wall and the tall ceiling above us. Even the pulpit was adorned with pictures of angelic wars. Then, when my eyes adjusted, I saw that every scene was actually showing battles of the descendants of the gods. Familiar House symbols—and many I had never seen before—marked each figure. In one mural, fire twisted around the throat of a woman like a snake, while her opponent was riddled with shards of ice. On and on it went. It was odd seeing the world with this dual vision—the angels and demons that those without power would see, and what I, as Paldimori, knew was really there.
“History is not to be forgotten,” Giovanni said quietly.
I hadn’t realized I had stopped walking. He watched me closely as if judging my reaction. “Is that what the paintings are? Your history?”
“Our history. Our future,” he said ambiguously, the lines that age had carved into his face deepening with sadness. “They are often the same.”
“Those who do not learn from history are destined to repeat it?” I asked, repeating the old philosopher’s adage. “I can’t get on board with that. I’m a forge-your-own-path kinda girl.”
“You are your father’s daughter in this.” Giovanni’s wrinkled hand rested on my shoulder. My first reaction was to push him away, but his kind eyes were radiating a sadness I knew all too well. The scent of the ocean and fresh sheets hit me as he leaned closer. For a moment, I could see my father in this stranger, and I wanted to grasp onto this last piece of him.
“His path took him far from his past,” Giovanni said. “Yet you are here. Some say all roads lead home.”
Molly had once told me that the Houses tried to keep their lines pure. If my father had married outside of his House, it would have been frowned upon, but I hadn’t gotten the impression it was strictly forbidden. My father believed in duty and honor. He had been days away from becoming the next Kafàli here. Yet he had turned his back on everything he knew to run away with my mother. Father had loved her so much that he would have married her no matter what anyone said. So why run away? Was there something else happening here in this House that drove him to run?
“This isn’t my home,” I said, not wanting to offend the man, but making it clear that I had no obligations here. I may have inherited my father’s nose and some part of his powers, but that would never make me part of this House. Technologically advanced or not, this place still screamed that they took their rules and traditions very seriously. Very much like another House which was currently training me in all their own stuffy traditions. Which begged the question why was I letting them make me into another version of Calidora? My temperament was much closer to my mother’s, and she would never have let others dictate her life for her or stifle her with rules. Things were going to have to change when we returned to Prometheus.
The more immediate question was what I wanted from this visit. I hadn’t come here seeking out a family connection, but would it be so bad to hear my grandfather’s side of the story? Would my father have wanted that? Whatever had driven my father to run, I wasn’t going to belittle his choices by blindly jumping on the House of Light bandwagon. I wanted answers and the only way to get them was to be open to hearing what these people had to say.
Giovanni nodded in understanding. “Please excuse an old man for meddling. When you are my age, life is too short for holding your tongue. But I would very much like to teach you about your father and our family.”
“There’s nothing that you need to ask my forgiveness for,” I reassured him. My father may have been another story, but Giovanni would have to work that out for himself. A pang of longing hit me. It was there every single time I talked about my parents, but it was getting easier the more I remembered the good times. “You lost your son. I lost my father. He was a good man who died protecting the people he loved. Maybe ... would you like me to tell you about him some time?”
“Sí, you would bless this old man with a great gift.” He squeezed my hand. “Now we go. Jameson is not so patient.”
We joined Bennett and Grayson by the confessionals. The guides had spread out around the church but didn’t appear to be coming with us. Giovanni opened the door to the middle booth and gestured for us to enter. Bennett and Grayson pressed close on either side of me, their bodies taunt with tension and their eyes alert, taking in everything. Mahogany walls lined all four sides of a space that was much bigger than its exterior would lead you to believe. Giovanni closed the door and pressed his hand to a panel in its center. Bright light filled the booth, and the wooden walls melted away to reveal a sleek metal elevator with a panel displaying dozens of buttons. The old man selected the top floor, and we shot upward.
“How long have you known my grandfather?” I asked Bennett.
“I have never met him personally until now. When Jaxon investigated your father, he crossed paths with Giovanni here at the local library. It seems the two share a love of knowledge.”
Bennett’s hand settled on my lower back, his thumb stroking it soothingly. I relaxed slightly, and my flaring powers followed suit. Setting the building on fire would not be a great opening for a we-come-in-peace meeting.
“Jaxon tested the waters to determine what kind of family reunion your father would have received. Your grandfather is a very smart man. Do not let the robes and old-man talk fool you. He is still the Kafàli here. Unlike most Houses, the House of Li
ght has fully embraced the twenty-first century and taken it even further by combining their powers with technology. With the little information Jaxon gave away, Giovanni learned of your existence and tracked you to Mercer Island. That was one of the reasons for moving you to Sotirìa. We were not sure of his intentions until a few days ago, when he requested to meet you.”
“When were you planning to tell me this?” I asked bitterly. Everything with the Paldimori felt like a chess game, and I was the clueless pawn. Pawns were usually the first to be sacrificed, and I was damn tired of being left in the dark waiting for the axe to fall. It was time to call my own shots. “What does he want?”
“I would have told you as soon as I could ensure your safety. You pushed the timetable up, so now we wait to see what his intentions are. His response to our missive claims he only wants to get to know you and for you to learn about your father’s House.” Bennett’s hand pressed tightly against my back as if he were seconds from yanking me out of here. His voice rumbled through our connection, “I had suggested that we meet to form an agreement between our two Houses. He has refused all of my offers unless you are part of the meeting. I have no doubt he will ask you to stay here.”
“He already did,” I replied drily. Bennett was about to go supernova if the manic tic in his jaw was any indication. Welcome to my anger-management program—lots of anger, very little management. Now he knew how it felt to be out of the loop. I wanted to leave him hanging, wondering what I had decided, but I wasn’t a petty asshole. “Relax, wizard boy. I’m not planning on vacationing here in the City of Oz.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the rigid tension in his shoulders lessen as the firm pressure of his palm on my back eased. The elevator doors opened, and Grayson moved first. Bennett nudged me forward, keeping me between him and Grayson, as we stepped into a room straight out of a sci-fi movie. Everything was white and sterile-looking. A webbing of honeycomb-shaped windows domed the entire top floor. Twelve wave loungers formed a circle at the center of the room. Hanging from the ceiling at their center was a multi-sided Jumbotron video display—like they use in stadiums. The only color came from the neon city beyond the windows that stretched out along the coastline far below.
Bennett and I halted beside a console covered in buttons. Grayson took up a stance a few steps behind my right shoulder, looking laid-back, but his eyes constantly scanning the room. So much stark white everywhere could explain why I missed seeing the other person in the room until he rose from one of the loungers. Hooded white robes vanished to reveal a man who looked to be a few years younger than me. The term “fallen angel” came to mind as I stared at him. He was so gorgeous that he may have even surpassed Jaxon’s good looks—not that I would ever tell the descendant of Eros that. The new guy’s blonde hair was spiked in a fauxhawk. His hazel eyes were alight with an inner fire that burned with embers of gold. He wore faded jeans and a Han Solo T-shirt molded to a muscular frame.
Ordinarily, I would judge him as good people since he was a Star Wars fan, but my instincts were saying something different. My skin buzzed as if I was covered in fire ants, and my gut reaction was to throw a fireball at his beautiful face. Bennett gripped my wrist. When had I fallen into a fighting stance?
“Show me your mark, Chosen,” the man ordered without preamble.
“Youth today are so impatient,” Giovanni tutted. “This is Jameson Parisi, Kyrion Apollo of the House of Light. Can we not have our guests sit before you start making demands, Jameson? Perhaps a drink first?”
“I am leader of this House. I will make the decisions on how to welcome our guests,” Jameson said arrogantly in perfect English. “We have been neutral in the war for eight years. Yet you want us to risk everything we have built—the peace my father died to give us—for silly fairy tales. I agreed to this meeting out of respect for you, Giovanni, but I can’t afford for my judgment to be clouded by family ties. If she really is Chosen, then she’ll prove it.”
I stepped forward before Giovanni could reply, Grayson joining me.
“I’m not a circus act, asshole.”
“We have agreed to offer you proof,” Bennett stated in that hard voice of Kyrion Chaos. He stepped forward to grab my wrist as if he were holding me back from doing something stupid. He was getting to know my reactions well, but if he was really smart, he wouldn’t have made this deal without me. My fists clenched. We seemed to always come back to this point—where he was making decisions, and I was left to deal with them when they came to light. Anger and hurt mixed together in a dangerous combination that threatened my control.
If only freakin’ laser beams could shoot out of my eyes there would be toasted Kyrion all over the room. As if my powers agreed, they filled my body, ready for action. Whoa! That was only a figure of speech; we don’t really want to hurt anyone. To my surprise my powers listened and settled down.
I tuned back into the conversation to hear Bennett say, “You are in no position to make demands.” Bennett held out his hand and a gun appeared on his palm. It had a matte gray grip and the clear barrel was filled with a glowing gold liquid. “You say your House is neutral, yet this very advanced weapon was found in the remains of Chaméni Elpída. My people witnessed only soldiers belonging to the House of Water and the House of Flames in the battle. Oh and Paden, of course, from the House of Spirits. What is it you really want?”
“Very good,” Jameson said as the anger radiating off of him only moments ago was replaced with smug satisfaction. The man was more mercurial than me during PMS. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stall meeting with me any longer once you found my calling card.” Jameson gestured to the gun. “A nice bit of technology that we’ve developed, don’t you think? Paden has only one obsession—his daughter. When little birdies whispered to me that he’d begun a frantic search for her once again it didn’t take much to figure out his next move.” Jameson snapped his fingers and a tumbler of amber colored liquor slid into his hand. He sipped the drink watching Bennett’s irritation build. “A fine Disoronno. Care for some?”
“What game are you playing, Apollo?” Bennett bit out, clearly pissed about being manipulated.
“I happen to like chess,” Jameson quipped and tossed back the rest of his drink. “Chess is a game of strategy and careful maneuvering to position your opponent where you want them to be. And then bam!”—he threw the tumbler down, and glass shards scattered across the floor—“you deliver the death blow before they ever see it coming. My father was a good man. An honest man, that wanted only for our people to be left in peace.” Sadness flickered across his face before his gaze turned cold. “I’m not my father. There is only one way peace has ever been achieved, and that’s by force. I’ve done what I can from the shadows.” He held out his hand and the gun floated over to him. “It’s time to come into the light.” Jameson teleported, and I gulped as the barrel of the gun slid along my cheek. “All we’ve been missing on this gameboard is the queen.”
Bennett grabbed my arm, spinning me away from the gun, and I stumbled into the console. Grayson wrestled the gun away from Jameson who teleported back across the room and braced himself against a lounger as he laughed his ass off. All of the neon lights in this city must have fried his brain cells.
I straightened from the console and gripped Bennett’s wrist before he could launch himself at Kyrion Crayzpants. What had Jameson meant about me being the missing game piece? Did he know something about the prophesy?
Giovanni stepped into the middle of the room, sweeping his hand out to make the broken glass disappear before he turned to us with a pleading look. “Calm, Kyrion Chaos. There is no danger here. Jameson has never outgrown his poor taste in fashion, nor his flair for drama.”
Bennett vibrated with anger. “If he touches my bond-mate again, you will be searching for a new Kyrion.”
Giovanni nodded. “My apologies.” He turned toward the still laughing man. “Jameson, this is no time for tricks!”
“Yes, yes,” Jameso
n said sweeping a mocking bow in our direction. “Just a bit of fun. Sorry to have alarmed you.”
Giovanni sighed, “You are here because we want true peace. Allow my granddaughter to come here to learn of her heritage. Let us train her in the light that I can see within her. In exchange, we will form a truce with the House of Chaos.”
Hold up, were they trying to make arrangements about me without my vote again? All of this alpha male control-freak crap was going to change. “You can’t just—”
Jameson teleported across the room to stand next Giovanni. All traces of humor were gone as his voice dropped into a low rumble filled with a dark hatred that had me holding tighter to Bennett’s wrist. “Agree to give us access to the Chosen, and we will fight beside you. We will help you rip those who have taken so much from us from this world and send them back in pieces to the gods that they betrayed.”
Bennett’s other hand settled over mine in reassurance. “I will agree to this truce, but Lia will visit here only when she wants and never alone.”
Ahh shit, guess I’ll be spending time here after all. These House of Light jerkwads had better not say one bad thing about my father or there was going to be hell to pay.
Giovanni nodded to Jameson, who said, “It’s agreed. From this moment the House of Light and the House of Chaos are allies.” Bennett released me and held his hand up. A stream of black light shot out toward the two House of Light men still standing several feet away. A shout stuck in my throat as a golden stream of light shot out from Jameson’s hand at the same time. The two lights clashed together in a shower of sparks, but instead of exploding, the tiniest tendril of each power wove together in an intricate knot. Then they cut off abruptly.
“Our truce is sealed,” Jameson said. “You have my power signature and can reach me telepathically if needed. Our people may have felt the change through their connection to their Kyrion, but make no mistake, the compulsion is still there. Your Chosen is feeling it even now. I hope for the sake of this truce, your people can overcome the urge to kill us.”
Paldimori Gods Rising Box Set Page 60