Mel produced another jug of water and handed it over to Violet. After she drank her fill, she handed it to me and asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m cool. Just had to let the crazy out for a minute,” I smiled ruefully, drank, and then studied her tired face. “You up for this?”
She nodded and then rubbed her feet.
“How about you catch a ride on me for a while? Take a load off.”
She tipped her head up, relief coming into her dark eyes. “Thanks.”
I shoved off the rock as Violet slipped on her shoes, got up and then burst into a black cloud that funneled toward my fingertips and slid onto my skin. The sensation was strange, like a wave of travelling goose bumps.
When she was done, I said, “Nice.” She’d left my arms bare, just covering my shoulders, torso, and legs. It was always different, the armor, changing to accommodate the threat and environment. The shoulder and torso were thin and elegant in its design, the legs hugging my jeans and easily moveable. Whenever Violet shielded me, I felt pretty bad ass in her choice of armor.
Even Mel looked impressed. “She really is unique, isn’t she?”
“You won’t get her soul. You know that, right?”
“I don’t want it. I know you’ll get what I need.”
“You know,” I said, brows drawn together. “I would have helped you if you’d just asked.” She flinched, startled by my admission And I wasn’t lying. Had Mel told me of her desire to be whole, I’d have helped her because I understood, because it sucked to feel the way she did, and if I could have helped fix it, why not? I would have done everything I could to help her locate the Blade of Cronus.
I walked past her dumbfounded self and said, “Boggles the god mind, doesn’t it?”
TWENTY-TWO
SOMEONE ELSE WAS IN THE ROOM with him. At first he didn’t open his eyes, trying instead to get a feel for the energy in the room and gather his wits. He had no idea how long he’d been out. There was an IV in his vein, which was currently being checked by a nurse, he guessed. He’d had blood because he was feeling a hell of a lot better than before.
The mood was quiet, the only sound was the faint rustle of clothing, the nurse’s breathing, and the constant intermittent beep of a monitor next to the bed.
He readied himself to grab the nurse, imagining the quick moves he’d have to make to hold her and keep her quiet.
No problem.
Just as he was about to make his move, the shuffle of feet entering his room made him abort. The energy changed. It was irritated, impatient. He relaxed his body and mind, using his persuasion very subtly, hoping it was enough to mask his wakefulness to the newcomers.
“So this is the heir to the great House of Arnaud,” a male, heavily French-accented voice said with a sneer. “Pity such a bloodline polluted.”
The advisor spoke up then and Sebastian detected a faint edge to her voice. “It is this pollution that makes him valuable to us, your grace. Lamia places exceptionally high worth on him.”
“Have you learned anything yet?”
Another voice spoke up and he guessed this was the nurse. “We’ve created a genetic fingerprint and have begun searching for mutations. It’ll take some time to pinpoint the genes that allowed him to survive his crossbreeding. He is the strongest Mistborn we’ve studied. In fact, the warlock in him hasn’t made the vampire in him weaker. It’s made him stronger.”
A hum of grudging approval sounded. “Continue with your work then. And the god?”
“Still compliant. He cares naught for what we do. We’ve successfully fertilized several eggs already.”
“Good.” He paused and Sebastian got the feeling the guy was burning two holes in him with his stare. “The death of Josephine was a great loss to the Front. Make sure her grandson--” he sneered the word--”isn’t a complete waste of time.”
“Yes, your grace.”
After they left, Sebastian opened his eyes. As their words banged around in his mind and merged into a basic outline of the Front’s intentions, he knew if he didn’t make it out soon, he’d be here for a very long time.
Using him as a fucking lab rat.
So they could do the impossible.
Yeah, he understood exactly what they were trying to do and why he was so valuable to them. Being the product of a vampire and a warlock, he was a great case study. That he’d survived the co-mingling of two different species was a rarity. Somewhere inside of him lay the answers, the genes, the mutations, and the reasons why he survived.
They were going to find those reasons and use them.
The Salian Front was trying to breed a god to a vampire.
They were trying to create another Archer.
Smart of them, really. If Archer took the side of the gods in the coming war, their only real chance would be to fight fire with fire. This breeding program of theirs was insurance.
The mind-blowing thing about it, though, was if they were successful at one, they’d be successful at another. Imagine an army of vampire demi-gods. Every god in every realm, even the sleeping ones could be wiped out. And there’d be nothing stopping them from eradicating any other species that got in their way.
As he sat up and surveyed the room, the sense of doom was crushing, and even more so because the implications of what was said hit home in a very personal way.
Josephine had been part of the Salian Front.
His grandmère had been part of this. And how far back did it go? Archer’s existence had been known to the Front for centuries thanks to Lamia’s prophecy of a Deliverer. They’d known all along that a cross between god and vampire was possible. How long had they been trying to create one themselves? How long had they been learning the secrets of other halflings like himself?
Hell, for all he knew his very existence was an experiment.
Had Josephine encouraged her daughter to be with a warlock, to marry Michel in hopes of birthing a Mistborn child? Had his mother even loved his father? Had she been a part of the Front, too?
No. He had to stop this train wreck of thoughts before he crashed and burned on them. And he wouldn’t think those things about his mother. He might not have known her, might not be able to recall her face in his mind, but he wouldn’t condemn her.
What a fucking nightmare.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling like the world as he’d always known it had just tilted on its axis.
TWENTY-THREE
IT SEEMED TO TAKE FOREVER to get back to the Fields of Asphodel. This time I was prepared for the sea of lost souls, milling about in wave after wave of confusion and forgetfulness. Hades’ immortal cattle were far in the distance and the herdsman was nowhere to be seen.
Thank God for--
As if on cue, he dropped down in front of us from the rocks, landing in a crouch in his jagged cloak and slowly rising to his full height, easily topping seven feet. The hood shielding his face gave him a sinister aura. His shoulders were huge and so was the hand that gripped a twisted wooden staff. Two blade hilts stuck from the top edges of each leather boot he wore.
Oh boy.
I swallowed, flicking a quick glance at Mel, momentarily struck by the amazing way her gown gave way to Goth-style battle gear. “Move aside, shade,” she commanded
If he was shade, then I’d hate to see the real thing.
“Where is she?” he demanded in a deep growl. If a Grizzly bear could speak, I was pretty sure it’d sound just like Menoetes.
And seeing as how he’d been the god of violent anger, I was guessing, shade or not, things were going to get messy.
“Where. Is. She.” His low voice dripped with menace, his massive shoulders stiffening.
“Who might she be exactly?” Mel challenged, taking a step toward him, her chin held high, unafraid.
“The child. The female.” His head lifted and turned as though he was scenting her, sniffing her out. “She is of my kind. Where is she?”
“Not here, obviously. Now move aside.”
r />
He leaned forward. Mel didn’t move an inch. But then, I’d watched her go nose to nose with Thanatos.
“One day, daughter of Hades. One day,” he threatened.
“What? Think you to avenge yourself, escape Tartarus? How is that going to work, Menoetes? Your body is there, your shade is here. Here.” She stepped into his space. “On my turf.” She shoved her staff into the dark recesses of his cloak and to his chest. The silver went translucent, revealing specters, eerie, gossamer things that roared up the staff and condensed at its tip. “Back. Off.”
He shuddered, but leaned even closer to Mel, pressing his chest against her staff, showing her that pain would never stop him if he decided to go at her. “Your day is coming... That child . . . is...”
Having had enough, Mel shoved her staff into his chest. Light spilled out and tore through his torso, cutting off his words. And, finally, the great brute caved, disappearing in a swirl of angry black dust and then reappearing on the ledge overlooking the cattle. He threw back his head and let out a great, angry roar. The cattle lifted their massive heads in his direction and roared back.
“Come on,” Mel mumbled, hurrying down the road.
Once I was able to find my voice, I fell in step beside her. “Dang, Mel. You’ve got some balls.” First Thanatos and now Menoetes. She was tough as nails.
She stopped and faced me. For a long moment, she said nothing. And then she lifted her hand. It was trembling. “Nearly peed my pants.”
I blinked. Before bursting out laughing.
Shock of all shocks, she started laughing, too.
TWENTY-FOUR
THANK GOD VIOLET HAD BEEN SHIELDING me during our run in with Menoetes because I was pretty sure we wouldn’t be walking away from the Asphodel Fields unscathed.
His intense focus on Violet shook me up.
Mel claimed she had no idea why he’d want Violet, other than the fact that he’d sensed a fellow Titan in his midst. “It might have made him a little crazy,” she explained. “Think about it. He hasn’t seen or heard one of his kind in over ten thousand years.”
I supposed that would make anyone scramble to get a closer look. To talk, touch, to be in the presence of your own kind after so long... Seeing the brute up close and personal, witnessing a tiny fraction of his rage, it was hard to see beyond that and think of him as being lonely and starved for the companionship of another Titan.
Still, Menoetes wasn't going to get anywhere near Violet, unless he dropped the ogre tactics and showed some manners.
The remainder of our journey in the Underworld was uneventful. I hadn’t really noticed when we’d first left Mel’s temple in Olympus and arrived in the Underworld that what we’d stepped through--the ghostly fire--was actually a thick boundary, a border of otherworldly flames drawn in the black earth that went on for miles in both directions.
Mel didn’t stop as we approached the flames. She just walked through them as simply as taking her next step. I followed closely, not wanting to get lost in the flames or find myself exiting without her.
Without incident, we emerged back in the inner sanctum and stepped out of the pit. The flames disappeared.
I let out a sigh of relief and then drew in a large breath of cool, clean air.
One trip to the Underworld down. Another to go.
“You and Violet should eat before we continue.” Mel headed for a long marble table along the wall. As she approached, things that hadn’t been there before suddenly were. She grabbed a plate and picked some fruit, meat, cheese, and bread, poured herself a glass of water and then parked her butt on the old sofa. She bit off a chunk of bread. “What are you waiting for? We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Thanks,” I said, going to the table. Violet must have been starved because she slid from my body and coalesced, beating me there.
Once we filled our plates and joined Mel back at the couch, Violet asked about Menoetes. “That guy was pretty scary, huh?” She sat on the edge of the cushion, balancing the plate in her lap. One of her socks was torn, and she had a couple bad scrapes on her knees.
If I had the time, I’d take Violet back to New 2. The last thing I wanted was for her to endure anymore. But we only had twelve hours. If I tried to sneak her back to the gateway in Ares’ temple and got caught, I wouldn’t be able to fulfill the bargain with Thanatos and Archer would become a permanent resident of the Underworld.
“Menoetes is all bluster,” Mel was telling Violet, “Don’t let him frighten you.”
“Is his body really in Tartarus?”
Mel nodded. “After Zeus destroyed Menoetes with his bolt, my father denied him his death, chained his body in Tartarus, and then forced his shade into work minding his herd.”
“Can a body live without its spirit? Normally, it would die, right?”
“Yes and no. Depends on the strength of the spirit and the body. And the power involved--in this case it was Hades’, and he can do just about anything when it comes to the dead.”
“I want to talk to him,” Violet decided, daintily putting a piece of meat into her mouth.
Good thing I hadn’t swallowed when she made her announcement or I would’ve choked. Glancing to Mel for help only got me a shrug.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I replied slowly.
“Why not? He’s just a spirit. He can’t really hurt me, right Mel?”
“No, Violet. He can hurt you. He is strong. Even his name is strong. It means doomed might. I believe it best we avoid him and you stay hidden upon our return.”
Violet’s black brows drew together in determination. No to Violet was like an invitation. Like being told she couldn’t come with me to Olympus. Yeah. That hadn’t worked out so well, had it? I had a feeling if she wanted to talk to Menoetes, she would.
We finished eating in silence. After I was done, I downed a cup of cold water from the jug I’d brought over from the table, and then sat on the rug to stretch my legs, resting my back against the chair. “Right before we found your temple I was attacked,” I told Mel. “I think it was just one person. Good with a bow.”
“If someone from Olympus were after you, they wouldn’t have missed.” Which confirmed my suspicion of being driven, each arrow designed to herd me to a destination. “Perhaps someone working with Thanatos,” she said. “To make sure you found me.”
“That would make sense if he knew I’d come looking for you.”
She got up and stretched, then flung her long hair over her shoulder. “Every god has their spies. Obviously Thanatos has some kind of relationship with Hestia. He probably first learned about you and your abilities through her. He might have even known about me and Menai visiting you and me being there in the cathedral. He’d figure once he took Archer that you’d come looking for someone to take you to the Underworld.”
I had to wonder why Thanatos would go through so much trouble for a grace who didn’t even want him. “This grace . . . she doesn’t even want him.”
Mel checked her weapons. Two curved blades crisscrossed her chest, two in her boots, and her staff in a sheath behind her back. “No. It was quite a bruise to his ego.”
“How long ago did all this go down?”
“Couple thousand.”
And he was still nursing a grudge. “Guy doesn’t let go, does he?”
“Kind of imbedded in his being. No one escapes death. Once Fate cuts the cord, you’re his and he won’t let go until he’s got you. That tends to translate to other things as well.” She began braiding her hair. “Euthymia was given to Thanatos by Hera after the goddess gave the grace, Pasithea, to his twin, Hypnos. I guess Hera figured if one twin got a grace, the other should too.”
“And the graces refused.”
“No. Pasithea did her duty and married Hypnos. It was a good match. Her sister grace wasn’t so thrilled. She was terrified of Thanatos, so much so that she got herself turned to stone so she wouldn’t have to join him in the Underworld.”
The grace had fro
zen herself in stone for all eternity rather than marry Thanatos. No wonder he still held a grudge.
Strangely, I felt a little sorry for Thanatos. To have someone be so averse to you that they’d rather die than to be with you? That would have destroyed most people. Of course, Thanatos wasn't most people.
“Why would he even want her after that?” Violet asked.
Mel sat on the arm of the couch. “Revenge is my guess.”
Okay, now I didn’t feel so sorry for him.
And I realized I was caught up in something that might cause a hell of a lot of grief to a certain grace.
Well, shit.
Mel sensed my shift in mood.
“You must do this, Ari. Do not feel sorry for Euthymia. She denied the will of Hera and wronged Thanatos. She must face him as she should have had the courage to do in the beginning. She took the coward’s way out.”
“You know he won’t let her go.”
“And why should he? She had her chance to deny him and walk away, Thanatos gave her that option. All she had to do was go to him in the Underworld and face him, but she couldn’t do it. If you’re worried he’ll kill her, don’t. I know Thanatos. That would be too easy. He’ll make her face her fears--him--and live with him for a while, maybe as long as she denied herself to him.”
I rubbed my eyes and let out a weary breath. The last thing I wanted was to get involved in Thanatos’ soap opera. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be the one who removed Euthymia from her voluntary prison.
TWENTY-FIVE
ACROSS THE MIRRORED SURFACE of the lake, Zeus’ temple shone like a bright eternal symbol of the gods, of the Olympians. The entire complex seemed to glow. The fires were lit. The marble gleamed. Hestia sure had left her mark on the landscape, returning Olympus to its former beauty.
The stars above twinkled on the lake’s surface.
I breathed in deep before turning away from the surreal scene and caught up to Mel and Violet as they moved carefully through the high grass on the dark side of the lake.