Cry, Nike! (The Judas Curse)

by Angella Graff

  Mark collapsed down onto the ground and let the gentle breeze rushing through the pines cool the sweat on his forehead. He was tired. Not just physically, but soul-deep exhausted, and he wondered if it was truly over. He glanced over at Jude who sat near him, not too close, but close enough. Jude looked the same, contemplative, lonely, and sad.

  He couldn’t help but wonder if Jude felt Apollo when the winged creature had been there. Mark hadn’t even known, not until Ben told him exactly what happened. He certainly hadn’t expected the human, mortal detective to face off with the goddess alone. He most definitely hadn’t expected Persephone to sacrifice herself, but in hindsight, it made sense.

  Ben wasn’t just mortal. He could be killed—Mark was absolutely certain of that—but he had something else. He cured Olivia of her infection, and Mark’s brain could not let himself try and work that one out. If he did, if he gave that even a moment’s pause, he’d be angry. He’d watched cities burn, people murdered and tortured, and to know that someone like Ben could have saved them…

  Mark lay back, his hands cupped behind his head, and he sighed. “It’s time to move on,” he said quietly, his voice carrying up into the trees.

  “Yes,” Jude responded. There were a thousand words in that yes, a thousand predictions and warnings and fears, but he didn’t need to voice them. It wasn’t completely over. There were others. There were other portals, and other gods who had thought Nike was onto something. They knew about Mark and Judas now, if they hadn’t before, and they’d seen where they were vulnerable and weak.

  They could hide now, but they wouldn’t stay hidden for long. Mark felt that rush of fear up his spine at the thought that it might happen again. Whatever was going to happen likely wasn’t far off. Judas had not been cured of Apollo, and there was no telling when the winged god would return to lay his claim on Judas. For all the quiet kissed in the dark Mark could give Jude, Mark’s love wasn’t strong enough to break that things hold on his companion. God how he wanted it to be, and what he would have given to make it so—but he wasn’t about to start fooling himself now.

  “Where do we go?” he finally asked.

  Jude turned and smiled at Mark, giving a slight shrug and then fell back down onto his back. “Does it matter?”

  Mark laughed then, because no, it really didn’t.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ben was sitting at his desk, absentmindedly clicking the mouse on the game he’d become addicted to while spending his first few weeks back on the force doing desk assignments. It was a little shooter that you would aim, and the ball would shoot out and knock against pegs that would slowly disappear. It was mindless, a puzzle game, required a little strategy and very little thought, and he couldn’t put it down. His current character at the top was a pumpkin with a huge grin, and he couldn’t look at it without chuckling.

  Ben had an easier time coming back to the force this time. He’d taken two months off for the investigation, but after forensics returned prints and most importantly, statements from Olivia from the short clips and seconds she remembered from her time in captivity, Ben’s story was corroborated and the case was closed.

  He had another funeral for Abby, this time cremating her body and placing the urn in a vault on the cemetery grounds. He left the grave up there, the one next to Elisabeth, a place he could go and mourn. That grave, for him, symbolized the last time he’d seen his sister. The last time it had been her. The thing he buried had been devoid of Abby for so long that in the end, it hadn’t even looked like her anymore.

  From time to time he did wonder if she was still inside that body when Persephone shot her. If Abby was able to look out of her own eyes one last time before she was finally set free. Ben wondered, but wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

  Alex had recovered, Ben heard, a few weeks after he’d been taken. He was back to work, claiming he had no memory of the incident. He said he’d been on a road trip in California and the last thing he remembered was having a drink at a bar. There was no reason to mistrust him, and as Olivia couldn’t identify him as anyone who’d been around during her captivity, Alex went back to his life, and Olivia went back to hers.

  None of them seemed to be suffering any ill effects from anything. Ben didn’t have a contact number for Olivia, though on request one of the detectives who took her statement gave her Ben’s card, just in case she needed it. It was a strange gesture, but it felt right, and he didn’t regret it.

  Slowly, things got back to normal. Slowly, Ben took a case, and then another, and nothing supernatural was involved. There were murders, and people were still terrible, and bad things happened, but they were all things Ben could deal with. They were human, and they suffered human punishments, and no one was trying to tip the scales of the mortal coil.

  He settled into a routine, and slowly he stopped wondering where Mark and Judas had gone. He quit seeing Alex in his dreams, and hoping that Heimdall hadn’t suffered. Slowly he forgot what Persephone’s voice sounded like, though from time to time he heard her last goodbye echo in his head. That was a memory he could never shake, and a guilt that would never go away. But he could live with it. By god, he could, because it was finally over and he could rest.

  The phone’s shrill ring startled Ben out of his game concentration and he looked at the small device on the desktop with a glare. He had a sinking feeling that something was wrong, though he wasn’t sure if it was paranoia, because he was awfully paranoid these days. He didn’t recognize the number, but he picked up anyway.

  “Detective Stanford,” he said, giving his standard greeting.

  “Ah Benny, so good to hear your voice. You sound well!” There was no mistaking Alex’s jovial tone, and Ben let out a small sigh because hearing that Alex was okay and actually hearing that Alex was okay were two different things.

  “I’m doing okay,” Ben said. He glanced out his office window to make sure there were no on-lookers. From time to time it felt like he was being watched, that his conversations were being listened in on, and he didn’t like it. “How are you?”

  “Ah fully recovered,” Alex said. “Had a lake weekend, spent nearly every day out on the jet skis. Nice tan, you know, the usual.”

  “You’re going to end up with skin cancer,” Ben warned, half-joking.

  “Not me, my good man.” There was a pregnant pause and then, when Alex spoke again, his voice was low and serious. “Listen, how are you? Really. I mean, I’d wanted to check up on you this whole time but I figured you needed a break from all of… you know… us.”

  Ben had to laugh because it was true, and he had, and he was grateful that the gods had left him alone. Even the friendlier ones. “I appreciate that, but honestly, I’m doing okay. I did have someone send you the invite to Abby’s second service, but I understood why you didn’t come.”

  “She was only ever Nike to me, friend,” Alex said, which was true, and Ben didn’t hold that against him.

  “Did um…” Ben trailed off, realizing he wasn’t brave enough for the question, but realizing he honestly wanted to know. Was Abby still in the body when Persephone shot her?

  “No,” Alex said quietly, “she wasn’t. I’m not sure when she vacated the premises, if you will, but I swear to you, the body was empty. Nike had taken it, and whatever torment your sister had suffered, she was long gone by the time that final shot was fired.”

  Ben realized his cheeks were wet when he reached up to scratch the thing that was tickling along his skin. He quickly wiped them away, glancing around hurriedly to make sure none of the other detectives had noticed. They would have all understood, of course, but Ben couldn’t stand those looks of pity when one of them spontaneously remembered everything he’d been through. He cleared his throat, “Ah, thank you, Alex. I um… I appreciate that.”

  “You’re staying careful though, right?” Alex replied. “You know that there are still those nutjobs just waiting in the wings to make a move. Nike stirred something in them, gave them the idea th
at the portals could be opened and there were powers to harness.”

  Ben knew this, but he tried not to think about it much. He was so desperate to be out of that world, to be done with it all, that he didn’t think about any of the loose ends. “I’m being careful, I swear it.”

  There was a muffled sound, then Alex’s voice murmuring something before he came back on the line. “Listen, I have a meeting to get to, but you call me if you need anything. You see or hear anything strange and you call this number. It’s my private line, the only people that have it are you and my personal assistant. Okay?”

  “Yeah,” Ben said. “Take care.”

  And with that, Alex was off the line and Ben sat back, putting his hands over his face. He hated the world, hated his life a little because the truth was, it wasn’t over. It was over for now, but something had happened to Ben. Judas had done something to him, woken something in him, and he wasn’t just some detective anymore. He was on the gods’ radar now, they knew him, they could see him, and he wouldn’t ever be totally safe.

  Ben was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t see the uniformed officer walk past his window, so when the knock sounded, he nearly jumped out of his chair, giving his desk a violent shake and almost spilled his coffee. He cursed, grabbing a napkin to mop up the drops and called in an irritated tone, “Come in!”

  He didn’t recognize the officer right off hand, a new guy, young and arrogant, thought he would make detective in a year. He was obviously playing errand boy which annoyed him, but Ben didn’t pay his attitude any mind.

  “Detective, there’s a man up front asking to see you,” he said sounding like this task was beneath him.

  Ben frowned, not expecting anyone, and he crossed his arms. “Who is it?”

  “He gave the name as a Mr. Angel, but not a first name,” the officer said.

  Ben’s face went cold and white and he asked, “Tall guy? Black hair, kind of… movie-star glam quality?”

  The officer blushed a little, and gave a nod. “Yeah, that’s the guy.”

  Ben wanted to shout, “No! Tell him to fuck off, and never come back,” but he knew perfectly well that Hades wouldn’t leave him alone until Ben agreed to meet. “Send him over,” was his final reply.

  His heart thumped in his chest as the seconds ticked by, and he caught a glimpse of the tall, winged god walk across the room. Ben could still see the outline of the wings, even as Hades kept them hidden from the world, and he even saw them brush against the door frame as he entered Ben’s office, making them shiver slightly.

  Hades looked exactly the same, of course, with his southern gentleman charm as he approached Ben’s desk and extended his hand. Ben stared at it as though it were a poisonous snake, but eventually he took it and Hades sat.

  “Nice digs,” the god commented.

  “What do you want?” was Ben’s only reply. Ben wasn’t sure how he felt about Hades. Part of him felt like he’d made a deal with the devil, which in a way, he had. He’d bargained the world’s safety for the soul of one girl, and in the end, Ben delivered on his promise as Hades had delivered on his. But none of it felt good, or right, and Ben could not get the sound of Andrew’s neck breaking as Hades stepped on his chin, out of his head.

  “I came to see how you were,” Hades said, giving Ben a soft, easy smile. “I realized I took off out of there quickly, but I couldn’t risk being there when the others woke up.”

  Ben frowned and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. A defense posture, and he didn’t trust Hades at all. “They wouldn’t have been able to do anything to you. In the end, Nike had a power that no god has had that I’ve seen yet, and Apollo held her down like she was a ragdoll. Don’t tell me Mark, Judas and Andrew scared you.”

  “It’s complicated,” Hades said, spreading his hands out. “And to tell the truth, Benjy, I was sad.” When Ben quirked an eyebrow up, Hades said, “I loved her. In that twisted way that only her mojo could have done, but it was there all the same. Since nearly the dawn of time I’d loved her, I’d been enslaved by her, and it didn’t just disappear the moment she died.”

  As much as he disliked this god sitting in front of him, Ben understood on a fundamental level. Hades wasn’t human, but he still felt, and Ben had to remind himself that Hades had been tortured for nearly all of his existence. By his family, and by the woman he rescued. Ben, in a way, understood it.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m sorry you had to watch her die, and that I had to be the one to kill her. I’m sorry that she loved me, and I’m sorry that a part of me loved her back.”

  Hades let out a breath and smiled just a little. “You see, that’s why I like you. You’re not like the others. You don’t make excuses for what happened, and you don’t fear me.”

  Ben couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up, and he shook his head. “I’m terrified of you, man. Are you kidding? I’ve seen what you can do, and the only reason I’m sitting here today is because someone or something thinks I’m important. And I don’t even know why. But you’re right, I’m not going to make excuses. What’s the point? What’s done is done, it’s over, and whatever happens in the future, Abby is gone, Persephone is gone, and I’m not afraid to do what I have to for the greater good.”

  Hades rose and leaned over the desk to Ben. His voice dropped and when he spoke, it sent chills directly up Ben’s spine. “It’s not over, and this is just a quick warning. They’re here. They’re watching, and the only way it’s ever going to be over is if all the portals are shut down. I’m not sure who is going to strike next, or when, or even how, but just stay on guard. I meant what I said, Benjy, I like you. I think that you deserve all the peace and happiness in the world. I just have a sinking feeling you’re going to go down in flames. Screaming.”

  Ben said nothing, he couldn’t. His mouth was frozen, and he was rooted to his chair. His eyes were wide and helpless as Hades tossed him a look of utter and complete sympathy before disappearing out the door. His breath came out in shaking gasps, but no one around seemed to notice. He felt alone now, more than he ever had, and he didn’t know what to do.

  Silence before the storm, Ben realized, because it had been too quiet. It had been too peaceful, too normal. The truth was, Ben knew what was out there now, he knew it, and he knew that they existed and were everywhere, but he hadn’t heard a whisper of them since the portal closed. Ben knew something big was coming, and he realized if he was going to survive it, he had to be prepared. But what he really needed to decide, the biggest question of all was, did he even want to?

  Epilogue

  Night fell over the city, and everything in their small flat was quiet and still. It had been over a month, and Jude found himself sitting on the terrace of their apartment that overlooked the Seine. The July nights in Paris carried a slight chill, threatening rain, though over their building right now were stars. They were hard to see, in the heart of this city, the lights never dimming, and a never ending stream of people walking by.

  Only in Alexandria had he ever heard such a melting pot of languages and cultures, the colors of people’s skin a veritable rainbow as they milled about, unconcerned with one another. The smell off the water was foul, a stench born by years of wear and tear, fuel from boats, trash, and sewage. But it was the Seine, it was the life-vein of Paris, and so long as there was a Paris, there would be that river.

  Somewhere, off in the distance, a crowd erupted into cheers. Roman candles shot into the air, bursting into a rainbow of sparkles, raining down on the people below. They were cheering, and music began. It was the night before their independence day, Bastille Day, and the people here always celebrated early.

  Jude could smell foods, every culture, every cuisine imaginable, wafting up as people walked up and down, buying from street vendors, and walking in and out of restaurants. A block away was a firehouse and a Caribbean band was playing, loud, intense steel drums, a woman singing and her voice carried on the wind.

  Leaning on the railing an
d closing his eyes, Jude smiled. They weren’t safe. Oh no, they were never safe, but right now they were quiet. Things between him and Mark were still, occasional touches, and a kiss to the cheek. The bare minimum to keep Jude from slipping into Apollo’s madness. He could have told Mark that those weren’t necessary. They didn’t do anything. It wasn’t Mark’s affection that kept the winged god out of his head. No. It wasn’t that at all.

  Jude’s hands gripped the railings so tight his knuckles went white as he allowed himself, just for a moment, to feel his pressing loneliness. It ached inside of him, a festering wound that would never heal, but he’d learned to live with the pain. He could shut it off, but from time to time, he wanted to feel it. That pain reminded him that he was still human. Every time a person brushed against him in a crowd, healing themselves, leeching off of his power, he had to let himself be reminded of what he was.

  Cursed, but still human.

  Apollo was there too, in his dreams, caressing him, holding him, his essence burning hot like fire, surrounding Jude and engulfing him. He didn’t hate it, and he didn’t share those moments with Mark. There would be no point. Those dreams were his, and sometimes, when he felt safe, feathered wings wrapped around him, he didn’t think he was so cursed after all.

  Jude’s eyes opened and he saw him there, like he did from time to time. He was in a long coat, drops of water sparkling in the yellow porch light. He’d been flying, and Jude knew the feathered wings were dripping, though at the moment he couldn’t see them. He was staring at Jude, his eyes wide, and dark, inviting him in.

  “Is this a dream?” Jude asked, though he knew the truth.

  Apollo smiled and he sat on the railing, his feet dangling over the edge. “Sit with me,” he said.

  Jude shook his head, but he moved closer to the creature, his hand brushing against something soft, invisible, sending waves of desire shooting through him. He reveled in it, he loved it just a little bit, as much as he hated it.