Ari touched the man’s arm. “I know you put a lot of your heart into them, sir, and I’m sorry. But we’ll re-create them. You will.”
Leo studied the blaze, golden- red light dancing across his rugged face. “I find them beautiful,” he explained quietly. “It’s difficult to explain, but they’re . . . alive. In some way that I don’t even understand, I know that to be true.” He seemed to think a moment, and then added more softly, “Watching them die pains me.”
“Die, my lord?” Ari asked, surprised at such a dramatic phrase.
“Their life is fading away, Aristos. Is there a better way to term it? Not that I can think of.” Their king’s spirit had seemed so troubled lately, and Ari had the idea that there was a greater import behind his words. “All living things and creatures must die eventually,” Leo said. “No matter how strong or resilient.”
Now, what did that comment mean? Ari turned to him, about to ask, but was cut off. There was an explosion along the barrier. It ripped open a whole section of the protective links, causing sparks to rise high into the night sky.
Ari watched the destruction, his eyes watering against the blast of heat. Leonidas turned, about to walk away, but he caught the Old Man by the arm. “Commander, do you think I caused this? When my power went haywire a while ago? That could be what brought them down, sir.”
Leo planted a gentle hand on his shoulder. Although only a few years older than Ari, his king had always been paternal with every one of them. All the responsibility and leadership he carried on his shoulders seemed only to add more maturity as well. Lately, it was strange, but Leo really had started to seem . . . older.
“Aristos, this began before the windows on the front of the house exploded, and before I observed many of the interior lights extinguish.” There was kind reassurance in the man’s eyes. “Even if you had caused this trouble, you only assumed River’s power to help your friend and Spartan brother, not out of any desire for your own gain. I would not blame you.”
For the space of a moment, Ari was relieved, but then a much more sinister thought nailed him, hard. Oh, by the gods, he knew he was right, too.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, my lord? I think maybe I know why the wards are reacting so violently.” Ari drew in a breath. “They were trying to protect us, sir, because . . .” He sucked in a deeper breath, steeling himself, and pointed back at the mansion. “Because there’s a demon in our house.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Explain how that is possible.”
Ari sighed. “It is such a long, long story, sir; I’m not sure where to begin.”
Ari hadn’t felt so exhausted, so eager to just stop talking, in longer than he could recall. But he inclined his head to their commander and said, “Forgive me, my lord, but I believe that ultimately—if not directly—I created the whole stupid mess.”
Chapter 34
Daphne walked the beach, the cool sand squishing between her bare toes. Delphi Island had become her temporary home, the brightly colored beach cottage a refuge far from her brother’s hand—and yet near enough to Leonidas and her beloved Spartans that she could reach them quickly, as needed. Teleporting from England wasn’t quite as fast or easy.
The surf roared because of the offshore hurricane, high waves raging, and the weather seemed to reflect her inner turmoil.
She was sure now that Ares had revoked Leonidas’s immortality. Her brother had hinted at it enough times, but after glimpsing the gray in his beard last night, she was convinced that was Ares’ punishment. On her, on Leonidas . . . on all of them. He would age now, and eventually die.
With a pained cry, she plopped down on the sand, watching the silver fingers of light that played over the roaring surf. There had to be a way to save him, she was certain, but she couldn’t seem to arrive at a plan. Her father, Zeus, had outright refused to intervene, but she was a demigoddess, possessing some power, even if it was limited in scope. She also had alliances on Olympus, those who cared for her and felt at least an iota of loyalty toward her. Like her nephew Eros, for instance; he’d always been kind to her—grateful for the respect and affection she offered even in the face of his own father’s cruelty.
Yes! she thought, sitting up taller. Eros could surely be of assistance. He lacked Ares’ brutal strength and her own father’s authority, but he carried more sway on the great mountain than she did, without a doubt. Beyond that, wouldn’t he be naturally sympathetic to her lover’s plight? She felt much lighter, until an odd shiver coursed down her spine. Her connection with Leonidas ran so strong, she always sensed when he was troubled—or in trouble of any sort. And something was definitely very wrong.
Leaping to her feet, she was already raising her arms as she began hurtling through the dimensions, flinging herself to his side.
In response to Leonidas’s orders to roll out, the past hour had seen a flurry of activity, organizing supplies, packing up vehicles. It was like the old time in Sparta, but instead of mules and horses, they had Mountaineers and Jeeps.
Ari had stayed out in the pasture, talking quietly to Leonidas about everything he’d learned about Juliana—and how it didn’t contradict the truth of their Oracle’s prophecy.
“Even our lady admitted that we had a very challenging road ahead,” Ari reminded Leo, half-afraid that he’d want to do the very thing Mason had threatened at first. Just kill Jules and be done with her.
“I remember what she said.” Leo grew quiet, drawing his cloak about his shoulders. “I noticed it at the time, actually. There is always more to what Daphne says or even intimates than meets the eye.” Leo smiled to himself, his affection for the woman obvious, and he kept on smiling that way.
“You love her,” Ari blurted like an idiot, wishing he could reel those three words back in the moment they were out of his mouth. But, well, he’d done the math lately, and he knew he was right, so there you had it. When something true came to his mind, he couldn’t seem to hold back.
He braced, waiting for censure, some gentle rebuke, but Leonidas kept his eyes on the dying wards. Silent at first, he began to smile more broadly after a moment. “I suppose I am not nearly as mysterious as I would like to believe.” He tucked his cloak even closer about himself, facing the fires again. “But please tell no one, Aristos. As you might imagine, this is an . . . ah, need-to-know type situation.”
“Well, well, boy talk? I wonder if it’s anywhere nearly as thrilling as girl talk,” Daphne asked, waltzing right up to Leo. The king stood taller, more handsome somehow, and his joy at her unexpected arrival sparkled in his eyes.
She squared herself in front of the commander, smiling up at him. Her hair was different—again. Long past her shoulders, the trademark cobalt blue strands were there, but this time she’d added crimson, too.
Crimson for Spartan kings, Ari thought, smiling despite all the struggles that lay ahead.
“You knew I needed you,” Leo said, and although his hand moved slightly, reaching, he did not touch her.
But she solved that problem, looping an arm through his. “Come,” she said soothingly. “Let’s inspect your wards, good king.”
With a quick glance around, Leonidas pulled her off to the side. Ari heard them murmuring low, and although he didn’t eavesdrop—he would never do anything as obnoxious or rude as that—he couldn’t help catching a few passing words between the couple.
“I thought you would not be with me,” Leo said in a low voice.
“I’m starting to think I cannot be anywhere else,” came her reply.
“But your brother?” He searched her face, and Ari didn’t like the genuine concern he saw in their king’s eyes.
She chewed on her lip, but then River was approaching them, calling out.
“We’ll talk later,” she said in a rush.
With a bright voice and even brighter expression, Daphne turned to greet River. Nikos was lumbering behind him, looking unhappy.
“I told him to stay back from the fires,” Nik complained, walking fa
ster because River had broken out in a run. “I told him that it’s dangerous for a mortal to go near something so powerful,” Nikos continued. “And you are mortal now, River. Don’t forget that.”
River ignored him completely, making a beeline for the rest of them. “I just realized something, Leonidas. Ari, come closer.” He was waving his hands, all dramatic like he did sometimes when he was worked up. “We all know that this power I once carried caused me plenty of issues over time. The violence, the . . . other things.” River blushed slightly, avoiding the Oracle’s eyes.
“Physical urges,” Ari volunteered, all helpful like.
River nodded, still flushing. “Ari, I more than anyone realize how much you’ve had to adapt to. So I started thinking. There’s no way that the demon caused this breakdown. She was here last night, again all this morning, and the wards were fine. It has to be something to do with your new power. And yet . . .” River stared at the wards, puzzling over something else that had occurred. “And yet you’ve been here for months, too, ever since accepting our exchange. So you can’t be the cause, or it would’ve happened before tonight.”
“What are you saying, River man?” Ari asked, not sure what his friend was trying to explain.
“That there’s a way to destroy the demon inside Juliana.” River’s expression became intent. “Come on inside and I’ll explain.”
River started walking toward the house, but Ari caught his arm. “I need to know now. . . . If it means Jules is gonna die, I need to know right now.” He couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice or the tears from stinging his eyes.
But his friend clasped his shoulder, embracing him. “Friend, you’ve always had my back. This time? Let me cover yours . . . and Juliana’s. For once, let all of us step up for you.”
Leo had ushered Ari and River into his study, closing the door with a heavy click. They now sat in front of the king’s desk, and Leo settled across from them.
“Okay, so my theory.” River pressed his palms together, glancing between Ari and Leonidas. “It’s certainly radical, but it would explain the reaction we’re seeing with the wards, all around the property.”
River leaned forward, placing his palms on the edge of Leonidas’s desk. “Sir, I believe the demon inside of Juliana is reacting to Ari’s power. He and Juliana are . . . well, they’re obviously close, and we know that a demon wouldn’t exactly enjoy cohabitating with a demigod. Or enduring the experience of love, either.”
“You think Layla’s aware when Jules and I are . . . well, you know?” Ari asked, mortified. He wasn’t gonna go there and picture that kind of uninvited sharing, not with the vixen he’d met tonight at the Crab Shack.
“I think you have a god’s power—and that could mean, especially given your closeness to Juliana herself—well, that you could free Juliana from the demon’s hold. Because of your gifts.”
Ari whistled despite himself. “You’re saying I’ve got the power to destroy this mean Little Djinni Who Could? That I could help root her out of Jules’s body?”
“Maybe. It seems that you two are certainly creating a seismic reaction, no?” River asked.
Ari leaned his head back, remembering the conversation he’d had with Mason until all hell—literally—broke loose.
“Mason Angel,” he said.
“He thought she was a demon,” Leonidas pointed out. “Is that why you mention him?”
Aristos shook his head. “No, he’s got a book, The Final Crossing, and it talks about the gods and their relationship with Djinn. There’s a special connection with Ares, something beyond his alliance with Sable. And that means River is right, about the power inside of me being able to combat the demon.”
Ari locked his fingers behind his head, leaning back in satisfaction. He knew they were going to be impressed with his deductive analysis.
Unfortunately, no dice. River spoke first. “I don’t get it.”
“I have some of Ares’ power inside of me—that Olympian . . .” Ari reached for the right word, actually grasping his hand at the air. “Creativity. And that really ought to mean—”
Leonidas stood regally. “That you have the power to destroy her as well.”
“Bingo!” Ari cried, his heart soaring as he realized he could free Juliana. “Newton said it, right? Balance. The equal and opposite action to the creative god’s power inside of me is destruction, or some such shit.” Then, remembering to show a little bit of respect, he muttered an apology.
Leo was unfazed, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “But we need Mason Angel’s help, since he’s the one who understands the book. Otherwise, Aristos . . . you might well destroy the one you love as you attempt to strike down her demon. Mason’s knowledge of the text will be crucial, so it’s good that we are relocating to the Angel plantation, where we’ll have access to their full library of lore.”
Chapter 35
Juliana folded the last of her new clothes into one of Emma’s valises, and then reached to add Shay’s sketch to the bag’s contents.
“You’ve already been here long enough to have a suitcase full of clothes?” Mason asked.
Jules looked up, startled to find him standing inside the open doorway to her room. Although he had a friendly expression on his face, his unexpected arrival caused her stomach to knot. He was a hunter, after all. True, he had promised to help her, but she hadn’t yet been alone with him—and he despised Layla.
Perhaps he doesn’t mean to protect me, after all, she thought, panicking.
“There’s something I need to do, Juliana,” he told her, taking several steps toward her.
Her heart pounded, and she backed up several steps of her own.
“Juliana,” he said, advancing even closer—and much faster.
She scuttled toward the window, but he tracked with the move, his expression intently focused on her. “Juliana, stop,” he said firmly.
“Please . . . don’t,” she managed to say, her hand tightening around the sketch she still held in her hand.
“Don’t what?” he asked with a confused expression. Then his eyes grew much wider. “I’m not here to hurt you! Good Lord, I promised to protect you, and I meant it.”
She released a long sigh. “I assumed . . .”
“The ‘something’ I gotta do is this,” he said, gesturing toward the sketch in her hands. “I need to see what my sis drew earlier.”
She handed him the picture, watching his face to see how he reacted. His green eyes swept over the page, taking in the details; then he looked up. “This is from your perspective. I mean, you aren’t in the picture, so it’s a depiction of what you saw. The view through your eyes.”
She nodded. “I couldn’t remember much about the night, not until Shay drew that. After, I went into a trance state and I traveled back to the moment—as if it were literally happening, I mean. That man? He did something evil to me, Mason.”
He looked up in surprise. “Evil how?”
“He put his hands on me and, it’s hard to describe, but I believe he . . . well, he willed my death. He compelled me to die. I believe he forced me—somehow—to drown myself in the river.”
“But how could he take away your free will? Make you kill yourself?”
“He mentioned a curse.”
Mason ran a hand over his face, releasing a long, heavy breath. “Not. Good,” he said. “Can you tell me exactly what he said?”
She tried to recall the precise words, but the trance state had been unnatural and frightening. “He used the word curse. Said the curse he placed on me would live, and live beyond the grave. That it would kill me . . . to kill Ari’s soul.”
“Losing you sure did a number on him,” Mason agreed. “And you didn’t go to heaven after your death. . . . You wandered in torment, didn’t you?”
She shook her head. “I chose to stay. I told Aristos that there was a moment when . . . I stayed to find him. I don’t remember much about it, but I know that I stayed to search for Ari.”
&nbs
p; “Still, that curse—I do think it lived beyond the grave, Juliana. And I’m sorry, but I also think it’s why you’ve got this problem with the demon. There was an opening for her to do her work, to fool you . . . a spiritual mark on you, so to speak.”
Then Jules remembered another part of the vision. “Oh, and he said something else. About death to the voice of life, to every woman of my . . . heritage. That was the word he used.”
“Are you sure?” Mason asked. His voice was tense, his expression alarmed.
She nodded her head. “Absolutely.”
“Then we’ve got an even bigger problem,” he said. “Cause that means Shay, Emma, Sophie? They’re all under the curse, too.”
Ari came into the room. “What curse are you talking about?”
Mason handed him the sketch, and Juliana explained, “Shay drew that earlier, darling. It’s the moment when you came to my balcony. Look, that man is in the picture, too.”
Ari cursed in Greek, eyes wide and filled with fury. “The bastard!”
“You know the guy?” Mace asked, but Juliana’s suspicions were now confirmed.
Ari waved the sketch at them. “Caesar Vaella. This is him. The man I was pursuing here in Savannah when I first met Juliana. He got away from me back then, just seemed to vanish around the same time Jules died. Now I know why—because he’d targeted her. And he did that to drive me away from Savannah.”
“He used her,” Mason agreed, “to get to you.”
“Exactly.” Ari pressed his face against the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Jules. So sorry that I put you in that kind of danger. That you suffered and died because of my efforts to stop that freak.”
“I told you earlier—you cannot blame yourself, Ari. I loved you—I still love you. That was worth any price.”
Mace cut in. “The price is still being paid, y’all,” he said. “That curse he put on her? It’s still on her head, and that’s giving the demon a foothold. We gotta break that thing if there’s any hope of routing the Djinn.”
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