One thing was becoming increasingly obvious. They were all psychopaths, and Zeus had turned his children into broken, wretched voids of emptiness, clamoring for a heartless father’s love.
And I’d thought my parents were assholes. Sheesh.
8
Zeus brushed his hands together as if cleaning them of the matter. “Well, I must be off. The world isn’t going to save itself.”
My mind searched for anything to keep him here. “What about Prometheus? If he sees you down there, he will kill you.”
Zeus smirked, turning to Hermes without a word. Hermes obediently waved a hand, drawing my attention. I flinched as whatever his spirit fingers did caused Zeus’ form to shimmer and…
I was suddenly facing my doppelgänger. I leapt back a step, staring at him in horror. Hermes had made him look exactly like me. Well, the prettier version of me. Not the current prisoner version.
Hermes was damned good at illusions, just like his counterpart in mischief, Loki. Perhaps he wasn’t as disfavored as Zeus had made it seem. His siblings definitely looked about as shocked as me—and equally suspicious that their brother had a side project with their father. It was painful watching them vie for their father’s attention. All the worse for the fact that he seemed to relish in the competition rather than handing out the reward.
“Prometheus wants to kill me even more than you,” I said quietly, not understanding the benefits to his choice of illusions. I subconsciously felt my mind creating and discarding a dozen monikers for my doppelgänger. Nate-ning Bolt? Natericity? Electro-Nate. I settled on the last one.
Electro-Nate grinned. “I know.”
And I suddenly understood why Zeus wanted me locked away. Because his little trip was going to involve some act of carnage that would piss off a lot of people. And he was going to do it while wearing my skin. He’d already said he sought a weapon I had once wielded.
This was a frame job.
Shit.
My doppelgänger studied me, eyeing me up and down with an arrogant smirk. That prick-ish grin really got under my skin, and it was a surreal moment for me when I realized that this was how many others likely saw me.
That even I wanted to sucker punch me in the mouth.
Electro-Nate studied me with that shit-eating grin. Then he studied himself, grimacing distastefully. He slowly lifted his head to stare at me until he matched my posture and we faced each other evenly—like I was staring into a mirror.
Other than the fact that the real me was all beaten up and bloody, of course.
“You are a monster,” he said with an indifferent shrug. “There’s no use crying about it. Own it. Like your ancestors did.”
And I knew my therapist was going to earn her retainer this year when I tried to explain what was stressing me out—that my double had psychoanalyzed me.
Accurately.
“And you are a coward,” I fired back on reflex, feeling an odd sense of honesty to be telling my reflection that—as if this was some corporate retreat where we were told to shout out our weaknesses at our reflections in the mirror.
Had my reflex comment been directed at Zeus or…myself?
I cocked my head at a sudden thought, and had to bite back a laugh. “You know that merely looking like me won’t let you get into my satchel, right? Is that what this is really about?”
Electro-Nate waved a hand dismissively. “I merely wanted to check if it was full of my Armory’s weapons. Realizing it wouldn’t be that easy, I considered other avenues to get what I wanted. I’ll admit, my first intent was to kill you. Hermes convinced me to think on it, and find a way to use you instead. Rather than kill the other player’s army and weapons, find a way to acquire them for myself.”
Hermes smirked proudly, relishing in the rare praise. His siblings practically snarled.
“Then, I began to see the benefits in a collaboration.” Zeus said. He studied me appraisingly. “I see much of myself in you, Nate Temple. I have done my homework, and you are to be commended.”
“Oh, and how did I earn your approval? I think your children are dying for that answer.”
He didn’t even bat an eye. “You are a monster,” he said simply, repeating the earlier accusation. “And monsters, like blades, must be used to retain their edges. And I know a thing or two about using monsters.”
“I’m not a monster,” I growled. If being a monster was the key to earning his love, Apollo and Ares should have been tied for favorite son.
He laughed. “Even your own people don’t want you. Everyone is scared to death of the toddler with the figurative hand grenade. I’m choosing to give that child candy, because I see the man he will one day become.”
I let it go, realizing that I had no interest in understanding the inner workings of a madman. As simply as that, I no longer cared about his rash judgment of me. I wasn’t a monster. Sure, some thought so. But they were worse monsters. Sore losers, some might say.
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “monsters must be kept on leashes until they learn who their master is,” he said, smirking at my manacles. “The only way out of the Titan Thorns—other than me—is to be well and truly in love with someone. Unconditionally.” He smiled wickedly. “And that is an impossibility for one such as you, isn’t it, Temple? You can’t do anything unconditionally.”
Rather than rise to the bait, I immediately focused my thoughts on Callie Penrose, hoping to seize on his slip of the tongue. Love was the key to my Titan Thorns, and I loved Callie Penrose. How could Zeus be stupid enough to tell me how to break free—
Nothing happened.
My forehead burst out into a cold sweat at the sudden, startling implication. Callie Penrose, my on-again/off-again, someday-maybe lover was a wizard from Kansas City. The sexual tension between us was possibly strong enough to give even Aphrodite a proximity orgasm, because we had never actually acted upon our obvious shared feelings. We’d openly talked about it, but it always got pushed back in favor of taking out some dire threat on her end or mine. But we loved each other…
Didn’t we? Memories of a conversation with Kára—a bartending Valkyrie—beneath Yggdrasil suddenly came to mind. How she’d thought I was single and ready to mingle, because I had never once spoken about my relationship with Callie in anything other than a formal manner. How I’d spent many evenings in her company rather than visiting Callie.
It hadn’t been intentional, of course. Callie had been busy, and so had I.
But I’d sure sent Kára mixed signals about my love of Callie Penrose. Of course, Callie hadn’t made any effort to reach out to me, either. We’d both sat around, waiting for the other to make the first move, and it had begun to chafe on me, subconsciously—which had led Kára to believe that we were no longer an item.
If love was the key to the Titan Thorns…well, Kára’s analysis suddenly carried more weight.
I realized that the pavilion was silent and that everyone was staring at me. Aphrodite had a sad, understanding look on her face. Apollo had a victorious sneer, and Hermes looked gaunt and pale. Ares, the ginger bastard, burst out laughing, doubling over to slap his knees.
I ignored them and turned to Zeus, careful to keep my face blank. He nodded with a cool smile. “Did you think me stupid enough to give you the key to your imprisonment if I thought you could actually use it? Your heart is broken, Temple. Permanently. Irrevocably. You chose to become a monster rather than a lover. That choice will haunt you forever, much as it has me.” A haunted look drifted across his eyes, like a passing cloud over sunlight. “Like I said, there is no use crying about it. Reap the benefits of your decision, and fuck whom you will. I did. I wouldn’t be offering a partnership if I didn’t see a little of me in you. Potential.”
I stared at him, not knowing how to react. I was literally speechless—both at his admission and the unbidden revelation about myself. Was he right?
Or maybe love had nothing to do with the manacles, and he was using my self-doubt to make me buy his cl
aim that I was a heartless monster. Because how could he have known about my true feelings for Callie? I’d seen how he treated and managed his offspring—the equivalent of tossing a rusty knife on the breakfast table and murmuring that the last kid standing was the most loved. I had to admit, he was incredibly talented at reading and manipulating people.
Had he done so with me? Was that one of the things he’d learned from torturing me for a week? Had I said something to Ares and Apollo? Or something to Carl when they’d left? Had our cell been bugged and he’d merely bided his time to exploit a weakness?
He picked up on my obvious frustration, and gave me an empathetic shrug. “No one can escape the Titan Thorns, especially not a man without a heart.” I narrowed my eyes, sensing that he was incredibly devious, or that it wasn’t an empty brag. “The more power you have, the less likely you are to break free of them. The Titan Thorns are like the Sensate the Norse Aesir gods use. No one will find you. Even if they were standing just outside your cell.”
No wonder none of my friends had attempted a rescue. The fact that the Titan Thorns also blocked my own magic only lent credence to his claim. I frowned suspiciously, wondering if he was truly that manipulative about the love angle. To use an internal flaw or fear of mine to justify something totally unrelated, knowing that I would conflate the two together as fact. I’d already watched him mentally abuse his children today, so it was safe to say he was attempting the same with me.
“I am the only one who can unlock your manacles. They were made by Hephaestus.”
I thought about Hephaestus, the legendary weapon smith of the Olympians…Aphrodite’s husband. Was he in on this shit show, too?
But if all the Olympians were working together, why was my prison so far removed from Mount Olympus?
“I will not be removing your manacles until you give me a reason to trust you. On that note, I will walk around looking like you, precisely because it bothers you so much. Until you give me a reason to trust you. Until you show me that you are more than just potential, and that my expectations are not misplaced.” He straightened his toga, smiling arrogantly.
“What can I do to earn your trust?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “I won’t pretend I like the situation, but I’m hyper-rational when it comes down to it. I’m willing to work with people I dislike to defeat a group I dislike even more.” I let my words hang in the air. “So, who is our mutual enemy in this upcoming war? I’ve never heard a solid answer.”
Zeus considered my questions in silence for a time, and I could see his own children leaning closer in anticipation and dread. “Your list of crimes is extensive.” He began ticking them off, one-by-one. “You freed Prometheus, you killed Athena, you killed Hercules, you even had the audacity to plan on using the River Styx as a dog bath…” He watched me closely, and it took everything in my power to keep my face blank. How had he known about me wanting to dip Calvin and Makayla into the River Styx?
I noticed Hermes in my peripheral vision, but I didn’t focus on him for fear of accidentally confirming Zeus’ claim. Hermes had visited me outside the Temple Mausoleum, hinting that he knew of my plans. The only others who knew were Gunnar and Othello.
“We face war, no thanks to you. Of course, you cannot take all the blame. This war was set in place long, long ago. You are merely the Catalyst—important, but not the initial cause. You were set up just as much as the rest of us. You are merely the first domino to be flicked.”
I frowned thoughtfully, recalling Raego’s father, Alaric Slate once saying something similar, years before. How he wanted to be the one to flick the first domino and cause chaos. Was he behind all this? He was dead now—twice, technically—but that didn’t mean he hadn’t set up a failsafe. Had he been working with Zeus? “The Omega War,” I said, choosing one of the terms I’d used to refer to the apparent prophecy.
He nodded grimly. “I mean to win this war. To do so, I must make alliances I would not usually make. You are faced with the same decision.” He turned to stare out at the sky. “I have seen what becomes of those who work with you,” he said. “They do not usually survive. At best, they find themselves in your pocket. This is not acceptable.”
I waited in silence. He wasn’t wrong. The Aesir pantheon was a mess, although I wasn’t sure how long that would last. Odin had been masquerading as my butler, and I’d just helped Loki break his son, Fenrir, out of prison. Fenrir, as in the wolf foretold to help kick off Ragnarok—the Norse Apocalypse.
Shiva and Ganesh were essentially my pals. I worked for Anubis—as his Guide to Hell—yet he seemed downright terrified of me. I was friends with the Boatman, Charon, who also seemed to terrify Anubis, despite being his employee. I was close friends with the Biblical Four Horsemen. The Fae Queens owed me a favor. I had helped put Alex—a new King Arthur—on the throne.
Yeah. Zeus wasn’t wrong.
Still. Extortion usually only served to make things worse.
“You have amassed quite the following. The Elders have long been servants of the Temple Clan. Now that you have finally opened the portal to their realm, you will soon transfer that alliance to me. You will marshal your forces under the banners of Olympus. My pantheon will survive this war, one way or another.”
Carl—already silent—had grown utterly still. He didn’t even appear to breathe.
I licked my lips nervously. I had assumed as much from the Elders, but I had not verified any of this servant business as fact. Maybe they had once served my family, and Carl seemed content to continue in this relationship, but he hardly spoke for his entire people.
I cleared my throat. “I have never met with their leaders, and I doubt they would believe anything I said if I showed up in manacles. They would know I am acting on another’s behalf. And, in case you’ve forgotten, they don’t seem to be fans of gods.”
Zeus nodded stiffly, still staring out at the skies. Thunder and lightning crackled and boomed on the horizon—a reflection of his thoughts. “The Elders are a necessity. As are your Horsemen. And you will give me back the keys to my Armory. For this, you will be compensated.”
I chose my words carefully, preferring honesty to his current attitude. “To speak plainly, those artifacts and weapons were obtained honestly. And it is a thin stretch to define compensation as allowing my friends to live. Extortion is not payment.”
“Desperate times,” he said with a shrug. “You are not qualified to lead this war by yourself. You wear too many hats as it is, and you have no experience running a war of this magnitude.”
I grunted. “I’m not arguing with that, although prophecy seems to disagree with us.”
Zeus was silent for a time. “Destiny is what I say it is.”
My eyebrows almost climbed off my forehead. I was pretty sure that wasn’t how fate worked, and I’d heard conflicting information on Zeus’ control over the Sisters of Fate. In fact, some stories said even Zeus was not immune to their spinning. However, this wasn’t really the place for that. “Have you spoken to them? The Sisters of Fate?”
“Yes.”
I waited for more, but he was obviously not willing to elaborate. The real question was whether or not I believed him. Regardless, my current predicament was set in stone. Whatever I had to do to keep my friends safe was all that mattered—and I couldn’t do anything if I was stuck on this mountain. Zeus had me. We both knew it.
He turned to glance at me. “We are too close to war to risk more gods dying. We will need every single one of them to face what comes next.”
I stared at him, feeling a shudder of very real fear. “What the hell are we supposed to be fighting that is stronger than all the gods?” I whispered.
“That information will be granted to an ally I know I can trust,” he said, firmly.
9
I stared at him, wondering if maybe he was right. Zeus, apparently wasn’t finished with his sales pitch. He began lifting his fingers as he ticked off perks of my new job. “If you wish to dip your friend’s children into t
he River Styx to protect them, only I can grant such a wish. If you wish to remove the Titan Thorns, only I can grant such a wish. You embarrassed my counterpart, Odin, by letting the world believe Thor had freed Fenrir. I can help appease his displeasure. Even now, he hunts for your head. Well, he’s using a Valkyrie to do so, at least. He is occupied with the capture of his son, Loki. And Fenrir, of course.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Odin wanted me dead? That…sounded like a lie. He was probably still scouring the world for Gungnir, which was safely tucked away inside my satchel in my prison cell. Why would Zeus lie?
Fear.
Was…Zeus afraid? I appraised him pensively, thinking back on how he had treated his offspring. How sometimes, men overcompensated. At least I’d heard the allegation a time or two—never directed at me, of course.
And I realized that it felt right. Despite how tough he was acting, he was terrified and trying to bully me into agreeing with him. So…what else was he lying about? Everything?
He continued on, not able to read my mind now that I was a godkiller. Thankfully. “Telling you my plans now will give you time to consider a strategy for when I return.”
I studied my doppelgänger. “I’m not agreeing to shit until you tell me why you need to look like me. What are you after? Who are you after?”
Electro-Nate studied his new look with an amused smile, looking proud. Hermes folded his arms smugly, satisfied at the makeover he’d whipped up for his father. “I intend to kill a very powerful person—practically a god. To do so, I need to obtain an item that I should not be able to obtain.” He settled his heavy gaze on me. “When the other pantheons see the godkiller—you—steal it, they won’t think anything of it. You are a godkiller, this is a god killing weapon.” He laughed abruptly. “And one you’ve already toyed with.”
That could mean dozens of things. Which was his point, obviously, hence the evil laugh.
“And it will give you leverage over me since I bet the theft and the murder are going to piss off a lot of people,” I growled, clenching my jaw.
Carnage: Nate Temple Series Book 14 Page 6