Daimon unleashed two spears of ice. The first buried itself in the stomach of a female. The second clipped the shoulder of a male and sent him toppling over the edge of the roof.
Daimon raised his hand and paused, locking up tight. “Maybe they’re seeing how many they can lure away from the fucking mansion.”
He disappeared in a swirl of black smoke.
Esher and Calistos remained. Lines bracketed the corners of Calistos’s mouth as he swept his hands upwards, sending several daemons flying into the air. They broke through the shadows and entered the light, their screams filling the air as the rays of the sun struck them and their skin instantly began to blister.
Fear washed over her.
Coming from Calistos.
He wanted to return to the mansion too, was afraid for his furie just as Daimon had feared for his sorceress.
“Go,” Enyo said as she leaped across the gap between the buildings.
Calistos whirled to face her, surprise washing across his features, lighting his stormy-blue eyes. He nodded and teleported just as she landed beside Esher.
Esher glanced at her.
Nodded too.
He kicked off and she followed him, supplying only back up, never engaging the enemy herself. She dealt with the ones Esher maimed and left to bleed out, telling herself on repeat that she was only doing her duty as a goddess of war—claiming the dead from a battlefield.
He made swift work of the daemons, impressively vicious and efficient as he cut through them, using his power over water to make them bleed and his short claws and fists to deal blows meant to weaken.
Power suddenly pressed down on her, so intense she struggled to get air into her lungs and was forced to stop moving.
Her eyes widened as the shadows began to bend, to part, writhing violently as if they were attempting to resist.
When resistance was futile.
She pressed a hand to her chest, her heart labouring as the sense of power in the air grew stronger.
Perhaps she had been wrong.
Keras was stronger than she remembered, not weaker.
The shadows suddenly broke apart, fragmenting and swirling in the air, drawing back together into a twisting, thrashing mass that hovered a few metres above the rooftop.
Sunlight bathed the daemons.
Agonised bellows rent the air.
She stood immobile in the middle of the rooftop as the shadows rapidly descended, her wide eyes tracking the pointed tips of them as they tore through the daemons, ripping them apart as they fought to escape the light.
And then Keras was there.
In the middle of the fray, his expression twisting into something disturbing as he slashed at them, as he broke bones and split flesh.
Pleasure.
She couldn’t breathe as she watched him fighting.
He was too brutal, too dark.
Too different to the man she had known back in the Underworld.
She couldn’t believe her eyes.
Keras had always been destructive, like his father, and had always enjoyed a fight, much like her, but he had never been like this—cold, vicious.
Terrifying.
His lips twisted in a smirk, his green eyes flooded with warmth as he moved from one daemon to the next, wrapping them in shadows that protected them from the sunlight.
So he could tear them apart with his bare hands.
Cold stole through her as she watched him, a dreadful feeling weighing her insides down.
This wasn’t Keras.
This was something else.
Someone else.
The darkness.
A shiver chased over her skin, turning it to goose flesh. She had to stop him.
She lunged for him when he neared her, grabbed his arm and shouted, “Stop!”
He turned on her with a vicious snarl, crimson shining around his dilated pupils, and she shook as red lightning split the sky in the distance beyond him. He shoved her away and she fell on her backside, too stunned by what she had seen to even brace herself let alone avoid the fall.
Keras paced away from her and Esher, stopping at the edge of the roof.
She stared at him, shell-shocked, her mind whirling.
He did something with his hands, tilted his head back and stood there for seconds that felt like an eternity as she tried to make sense of what she had just witnessed.
Hades was dark, but gods, Keras was something else. She had never seen someone take so much pleasure from bathing their hands in blood—from killing. Not in all her years. Not in the thousands of battles she had played a part in. Even her brother, the god of war, a man who lusted after violence and found bliss in it, didn’t even come close to what she had just witnessed in Keras.
Keras pivoted to face her.
And it was like looking at a completely different person.
He was calm. Placid. Almost too calm.
What had he done while standing with his back to her?
“Return to the mansion,” he said to Esher and she sensed his brother disappear, but couldn’t bring herself to look away from Keras.
He crossed the roof, picking a path through the carnage without taking his eyes off her, and she tensed when he held his hand out to her. Her gaze fell to his hand and she frowned as she spotted the ring on his thumb.
A ring she had given to him.
A token of friendship.
She had called it that when her nerve had failed her, when she hadn’t been able to find her voice to say what she really wanted it to be. She couldn’t believe he still had it. It touched her. Gave her courage.
She nodded to it. “I thought you would have thrown that tatty old thing away a long time ago.”
Keras’s green eyes dropped to it, a warm light entering them as he brushed his thumb over the silver band. “I would never do such a thing. I would not part with this for anything. Why would I want to part with it? You gave it to me.”
His eyes lifted to hers.
Flooded her with warmth.
With hope.
Because a glimmer of his true feelings shone in them, and for the first time, she felt she wasn’t alone in her feelings.
Pain was swift to follow on the heels of that warmth, a cold that curled through her as she thought about all the years they had been apart, all the years she had been avoiding him, hadn’t been able to bring herself to face him because she had been convinced he would have found someone else to love.
Someone that wasn’t her.
She cursed her weakness, all the way back to that moment when she had given him the ring.
When she should have told him that she loved him.
He held his hand out to her again. This time, she slipped hers into it. Closed her eyes and clung to the hope that she could have that forever she wanted with him as he pulled her close.
Wrapped his strong arms around her.
And teleported.
Chapter 5
Keras struggled to believe it was Enyo in his arms. She was real, not a figment of his imagination or an echo of the illusion the daemon Lisabeta had shown him.
He wanted to snarl when he landed with her in the front garden of the mansion, anger burning up his blood, caused by how brief the teleport had been. Not long enough to satisfy his need to feel her close to him, her soft body pressed to his, her warmth and scent seeping into him.
Marking him.
Calming him.
He lingered, deeply aware of every point where they touched—where her arms grazed his ribs, where the plates of her armour pressed to his chest, where her thigh brushed dangerously between his legs.
A myriad of feelings flowed through him, the tangle of them sweet yet bitter, tearing him in more directions than he could count as the pill he had swallowed tried to take hold.
He wanted to roar as she eased back from him, a terrible need to growl and pull her back to him, to pin her against him as he took her mouth flooding him.
Together with a desperate ur
ge to feather his fingers lightly along the graceful line of her jaw and stare into her eyes forever.
And a wild hunger to lash out at her and make her pay for leaving him alone for so many long and torturous years.
Keras checked all those needs, refusing to let any of them win and control his actions.
He released her and turned away, heading inside to speak with his brothers instead. Everyone had already gathered in the main room of the horseshoe-shaped house. Everyone except Ares and Megan.
He felt the absence of Ares keenly, felt the weight of expectation land solely on his shoulders for the first time in a long time, and it was too heavy to bear.
Some of that weight lifted as Enyo joined him, coming to stand close to him.
He struggled to keep his eyes off her and his mind on the meeting, had to use every drop of his iron will to shake the awareness of her that sank soul-deep into him despite the pill he had taken. His unruly emotions remained, refusing to be cowed by the drug. The numbing chill was slow to seep through his veins this time. Because he had already taken a pill and a second one so close to the first meant it wasn’t as effective?
Or because the feelings Enyo stirred in him were too strong for the drug to suppress?
“You think they were trying to draw us away from here?” Daimon looked at Cal and then Esher, dragging Keras’s focus back to the room.
Both men nodded.
“We need to be more careful,” Marek said.
Cal scowled at him.
“It’s not like we can just hole up here.” He looked at Daimon and Esher. “You saw what I did. Meadow can open the gate.”
“I didn’t say we should leave it undefended. I only said we should be more cautious. Three of us were enough. That was the right move… but only if that leaves four of us here to protect Cassandra and Marinda, and deal with any attack that might occur here.” Marek folded his arms across his broad chest. “Who was left here to protect this place?”
Esher, Cal and Daimon exchanged a look, one that relayed every drop of the guilt they were feeling.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Valen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Keras held back a sigh as his violet-haired younger brother added a huff, a glower, and Keras waited for his usual theatrics. Valen shrugged. “I’m only coming up with me as the answer to that. Was it me?”
Cal flicked Keras a nervous glance.
Keras sighed. “Marek has a point. Three to a gate is a solid plan but only if that leaves at least three here.”
“I wasn’t thinking.” Cal grimaced, almost a flinch.
Keras did him the courtesy of not leaping on that one by pointing out that he rarely thought things through before acting.
Mostly because he hadn’t been the only one to leap into action.
“It’s my gate,” Esher bit out defensively.
“And I’ve always protected it with him.” Daimon flexed his fingers and frost glittered on his black leather gloves, a sign that his brother’s mood was darkening. Since Cassandra had made him and Ares spell-laced bracelets, their power over ice and fire had been contained and rendered back under their control.
Meaning Daimon and Ares had to lose their temper for it to manifest now.
“Nothing bad happened this time. But this won’t be the last time they try to lure us out just as we are trying to lure them out. We must be on our guard.” Keras swept the two sides of his long black coat back and slipped his hands into his pockets.
Enyo looked down at them.
Awareness washed through him. Not only of the fact she was here beside him, close to him, but of the fact she was curious about something. She never had been good at hiding that emotion. He pulled his hands from his pockets and smoothed his coat over them, casually so as not to draw attention to the fact he didn’t want her gaze on his pockets.
On his pill box.
It had been a mistake to allow his darker side off the leash on the rooftop, and it had been another mistake to take a pill in front of her. He had been desperate to claw back control though, hadn’t wanted her to see just how strong the darkness was in him now. He hadn’t wanted her to see how far he had fallen in their time apart.
He was sure she hadn’t seen him take the pill, but he still felt on edge, waiting for her to ask him what he had done. The way she had looked at him said she hadn’t missed the change in him. If she asked, he would do his damnedest to convince her he had merely taken a moment to rein in his darker side—a side she was well aware existed in him. He would do all in his power to make her believe that, because he didn’t want her asking his brothers questions.
Not when Calistos had seen his pill box.
Not when Ares knew about the drug their father had given him.
Part of him was thankful his brother was unconscious, because it meant she couldn’t ask him about anything and so he couldn’t reveal anything to her, and gods that made him despise himself.
Made him want to reach for another pill to numb that sickening self-hatred.
“The furie was there,” she said, her voice like honey and ambrosia, a sweet drug that addled his mind and somehow calmed the raging need for another pill. “I saw her. She looked like you.”
Enyo shifted her pale green eyes to Marinda and he wanted to growl as they left him, wanted to snarl and order her to look at him again because he needed her eyes on him. He shut down that need, somehow managed to leash it and remain in control.
Marinda rubbed her hand on her loose jeans and held it out to Enyo, her French accent lending a light note to her voice as she said, “Marinda.”
Surprisingly, Enyo took her hand and shook it.
“Enyo.”
It wasn’t like the goddess to be so congenial to a stranger. He recalled how awkward she had been when they had first met, and how on edge and cold she had been with his brothers when she had met them for the first few times too.
In what other ways had she changed since they had parted?
He wanted to know.
He corrected that.
He didn’t want to know.
There was a chance her husband was responsible for this change in her. Just the thought of her with that male had his darkness rising back to the fore.
Her gaze drifted back to him, a frown drawing her fine black eyebrows together. This time, it didn’t calm him. It only stoked the rage, strengthening the black malevolence that coursed through his veins.
“In the future, no one makes a move until we have a plan.” Keras shifted a step away from her, a need to escape flooding him as his mood took a dangerous turn. “I should check on Ares.”
“What if the enemy comes here?” Cal said, and he wanted to curse his brother for drawing out the meeting when he needed a moment to get himself back under control, a moment for his pill to kick in.
A moment to catch his breath.
To let it sink in that it really was Enyo beside him.
“I don’t think she will,” Enyo said, drawing his gaze to her again.
Some of the darkness abated, and he wasn’t sure whether it was his pill finally beginning to take hold or her that caused it to happen.
“What makes you say that?” Daimon voiced the question that rose within Keras.
“When she caught sight of me, she ran.” Enyo looked at each of his brothers and their women in turn, singling out Daimon, Esher and Calistos and making Keras want to break all their necks.
He subtly curled his fingers into fists and clenched them so hard his bones hurt as he tamped down that black urge.
“I did notice that. I thought it was just the effect you had on people.” Daimon snapped his mouth shut, the smile that had been blooming on his lips dying as Enyo narrowed her eyes on him.
And Keras fought to hold back his growl.
He managed it, but couldn’t stop his fangs from descending.
Or his nails from transforming into short claws that bit into his palms.
“Did she lose her sense of humour?” Daimon whispered out of
the corner of his mouth as he leaned towards Marek.
“I am not sure she ever had one,” Marek murmured, barely moving his lips.
“Must I warn you to be civil and respectful to our guest while she is here?” Keras struggled to keep his voice calm and even, battling the urge to snarl at his brothers, to teach them to be those two things to her by bashing their heads together.
And then ripping their throats out.
“So.” Daimon cleared his throat. Nervously. “Meadow takes one look at Enyo and flees, leaving her legion of lackeys to die painfully. Meaning, Enyo is good to have on our side, but we have a problem. Meadow can open the gate, and I’m guessing she’s the one using Cassandra’s magic to their advantage. Let’s not gloss over the fact those daemons were there in broad daylight.”
“Somewhat problematic.” Marek frowned at the floor. “We have no way of knowing how much of our blood they were able to pull from previous battlefields. It might be that this was their one shot at using spells to cloak their warriors from the sunlight.”
“Or it might be this was all a show to scare us… flashing the fact they can use magic now.” Cal’s theory sounded more promising.
Which was a first.
“Either way, we need to be more careful,” Keras said, hoping to drive his point home.
It didn’t matter whether the furie could use some spells or whether she couldn’t. All that mattered was winning this war.
And the path to that was careful planning and using their brains more than their brawn.
He listened to everyone as they discussed what had happened, soaking up every theory and bit of information, filing them away to muse once he had some time to himself. Time he desperately needed.
“I can relay everything to Father.” Cal skimmed a hand down his forearm, over the blue ink script on the inside of it, his gift from Hermes.
One he could use to form a portal to any place he wanted to go.
Including the Underworld.
Keras nodded.
Cal dropped a kiss on Marinda’s lips and then gazed down at his favour mark. Behind him, a shimmering blue portal that rippled like water formed and he backed into it. It shrank and disappeared.
Keras: Guardians of Hades Series Book 7 Page 6